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TO THE 

CHURCH AND CONGREGATION 

LATE UNDER THE PASTORAL CARE 

OF THE 

Rev. THOMAS SPENCER, 



0itmoit8, 



COMPILED AND PUBLISHED, AT THEIR REQUEST, 

AS A TESTIMONY TO THE WORLD 

OF THB 

ADMIRATION AND ESTEEM HIS GENIUS AND HIS PIETY 
UNIVERSALLY INSPIRED; 

AND AS 

A GRATEFUL MEMORIAL OF HIS ACCEPTABLE LABOURS 

AND 

TRANSCENDENT EXCELLENCIES, 

AS A MINISTER, AS A MAN, AND AS A CHRISTIAN, 
ARE RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED 

BY 
THEIR AFFECTIONATE PASTOR AND &IVCERE FRIEND, 

THOMAS RAFFLES. 






S . / f •« t. 



\ 



Stotoetttsement 



TO THE FOURTH EDITION, 



Another edition of the Life of Spencer 
being called for by the Public, I have 
done my best to render it more worthy 
their acceptance. The whole has been 
carefully revised, and some additional 
matter thrown into the body of the work. 
The alterations in the Appendix were 
suggested by friends on whose judgment 
I rely, and I hope that they will be ge- 
nerally acceptable, I am happy in this 
opportunity of expressing my obligations 
to the Rev. Joseph Fletcher for the 
a2 



Vi. ADVERTISEMENT. 

promptitude with which he furnished his 
excellent Oration at the grave of Spen- 
cer. The extensive circulation of the 
work, both in England and America, 
where several large editions of it have 
been published, lead me to hope, that 
although with great diffidence it was 
committed to the world, it has been in 
some measure useful. If it be so, while 
I gratefully ascribe all the glory to God, 
I cannot but rejoice that I have not, in 
this instance, laboured in vain. 



Liverpool, May 9, 1817. 



Contents, 



PAGE 

Introduction 1 



PART I. 

FROM HIS BIRTH TO HIS ENTRANCE INTO THE ACADEMY AT 
HOXTON. 

Chap. I. 

The Parentage of Mr. Spencer 3 

His early Couvictions of Sin 5 

Inclination to the Ministry 7 

Diligence in the Acquisition of Knowledge 8 

He works at his Father's Business 11 

Chap. II. 

His Removal to London 14 

His Deportment, and Exercis«s of his Mind during his Resi- 
dence in the Poultry 15 

Is introduced to the Notice of Thomas Wilson, Esq 17 

Is placed under the Care of the Rev. Mr. Hurdle, of Harwich 18 

Chap. III. 

His Attention to his Studies at Harwich 22 

The Progress of Religion in his Soul „ . 23 

Leaves Harwich, and visits his Family at Hertford 26 

Letter I. — To Mr. Heward. His Submission to the Will 

of God with respect to his future Life 28 

Letter II. — To the same. Acknowledges God's Goodness in 

the Prospects then unfolded before him 30 

Letter III — To the same. Encourages his Friend in his 

Desires after the Ministry 31 

Letter IV. — To the same. His Tribute of Respect to the 

Memory of the late Mr. Winwood. Outlines of 

some Sermons by the Rev. Robert Morison, now 

the Missionary at Canton. His Interview with Mr. 

Morison 33 

Letter V. — To the same. Sketch of an intended Discourse 

on Matthew, v. 8 37 

Letter VI. — To the same. On the Riches of Divine Grace . 40 



VI 11. CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Letter VII.— To Mr Heward. His Manner of Life at Har- 
wich. His affectionate Remembrance of his Friencl 42 

Letter VIII. — To the same. His Progress in Learning. ... 45 

Letter IX. — To the same. His spiritual Privileges at Harwich, 

and his Manner of improving them. Thoughts 

on ' the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man 

availeth much. 1 His Experience in Divine 

Things 47 

Letter X. — To the same. He congratulates and admonishes 
his Friend on his immediate Prospect of the Mi- 
nistry. State of Religion in his Soul, &c. &c. &c. 51 

Letter XI. — To the same. Reviews the Dealings of Divine 

Providence with them, &c. Difference between 

natural and moral Inability. Encourages his 

Frieudin preaching at the Poor-house. Answers 

to the Questions, ' How do you prove the Exist- 
ence of a God from the Light of iNature ?' ' How 

do you prove the Scriptures to have been faithfully 

conveyed to us? 1 and, ' What Proof have you 

that Man was at first created righteous and holy?' 58 

Letter XII. — To the same. On his joining a Church. 

Anticipates the Pleasure of studying with his Friend 
at Hoxton. On the Hebrew Points 67 

Letter XIII— To the same. Anticipates with anxiety his 
Examination at Hoxton, and the Difficulties be 
would meet with when there 71 

Mr. Hoi-die's Testimony to Mr. Spencer's Character and Talents 77 

Mr. Spencer's grateful Acknowledgment of Mr. Hordle's Kind- 
ness 78 

Letter XIV. — To Thomas Wilson, Esq. with an Account of 
his Experience — his Motives for desirivig the Mi- 
nistry — and his Views of Divine Truth 80 

He is admitted a Student at Hoxton 84 



PART II. 

FROM HIS ENTRANCE INTO THE ACADEMY AT KOXTONj TO HIS 
SETTLEMENT AT LIVERPOOL. 

CHAP. I. 

His Advantages on entering the Academy 86 

His Diligence 88 

Preaches his first Sermon at Collier's End 89 

Preaches frequently in the Villages in the Neighbourhood of 

Hertford 91 

Advantages and Disadvantages of early Exercises in Preaching 93 
Preaches his first Sermon in his native Town 96 



CONTENTS. IX, 



Chap. II. page 

Mr. Spencer preaches his first Sermon at Hoxton 101 

Becomes the Topic of general Discourse in and about London 103 

Preaches at various Places in the Country 105 

Visits Brighton 108 

Visits Dorking for the Recovery of his Health Ill 

Letter XV. — To Mr. George Medley 113 

Chap. III. 
Letter XVI. — To Mr. John Haddon. His Regret at the 

Loss of his Friend's Society 115 

His Labours at Jewin Street 119 

Letter XVII. — To Mr. John Haddon. Deplores the na- 
tural Levity of his Disposition, and solicits the 

Fidelity of Friendship 120 

Letter XVUI.— To the same. His filial Duty 123 

He visits his Friends at Hertford 124 

Letter XIX. — To Mr. John Haddon. On Christian bold- 
ness 126 

Letter XX. — To the same. His Acquiescence in the Ar- 
rangements of Providence 128 

Letter XXI. — To Mrs. . Expresses Gratitude that his 

Ministry had been made useful — and encourages 

to Perseverance in the Ways of God 130 

Letter XXII. — To Mr. John Haddon. Entreats the Pray- 
ers of his Friend for Grace to keep him from fall- 
ing 135 

Visits Cambridge H. K.White, &c 137 

Letter XXIII.— To Mr. John Haddon. On Fluctuations 

in Religious Experience 138 

Letter XXIV.— To the same 140 

Letter XXV. — To the same. On the declining State of his 

Health 142 

Letter XXVI.— To the same. His Labours at Brighton 144 

Delivers an Oration at Hoxton 147 

Letter XXVII. — To Mr John Haddon, His Feelings in 

prospect of the above trying occasion 147 

Chap. IV. 
Characteristic Sketches 149 

Chap. V. 

He visits Liverpool 1 59 

Letter XXVIIT.— To Mr. John Haddon. On his Arrival 

at Liverpool 162 

Letter XXIX.— To Mr. George Medley 163 

Letter XXX. — To Mr. John Haddon. Account of his 

Labours in Liverpool , , , , 164 



*. CONTENTS. 

TT PAGE 

He receives and accepts an unanimous Invitation to Liverpool 166 
Letter XXXI. — To the Church, &c. His Answer to their 



Call 



167 



Letter XXXII. — On the Exercises of his Mind with respect 

to Liverpool 170 

Mr. Spencer's Engagements and Views with respect to Ton- 
bridge Chapel 373 

Letter XXXIII.— To Mr. Aicholas Hurry] .......'. '. 175 

Letter XXXIV— To Mr. William Harris. On nis* ap- 
proaching Separation from his Friends 177 

His last Visit to his Father's House .'. 179 

Preaches his Farewell Sermon at Hoxton " " ] 180 

Review of his Character, at the Period of his leaving London 182 



PART III. 

FROM HIS SETTLEMENT IN LIVERPOOL TO HIS DEATH. 

Chap. I. 
His Spiritual and Intellectual Endowments for the Ministry 1SS 
Letter XXXV. — To Mr. John Haddon. His Prospects 

of Usefulness in Liverpool 187 

Letter XXXVI.— To the same. On the first Sabbath of 

his stated Ministry 189 

Letter XXXVII— To his Father. On the Attention ex- 
cited by his Labours 190 

Letter XXXVIII.— To A Minister. Thanks him for his 

excellent Advice 192 

Letter XXXIX — To Mr. John Haddon. He feels the 

awful Responsibility of his Work 193 

Is called by Affliction to Brighton 194 

Letter XL. — To Mr. Harris. The Exercises of his Mind 

at Brighton 195 

Returns to Liverpool, and lays the first Stone of anew Chapel 197 

He goes to. reside in Toxteth Park 198 

Letter XLI. — To Mr. John Haddon. Describes his in- 
tended Residence 200 

Is called to Chester, to deliver the Funeral Oration at the 

Grave of his early Friend, the Rev. E. White. . 202 

Letter XL1I. — To Mr, George Medley 203 

Letter XL1II.— To Mr. John Haddon. On the above 

mournful Occasion 205 

Letter X LIV. — To the same. His Devotedness to his Work 209 

Chap. II. 
Letter XLV. — To Thomas Wilson, Esq. Invites him to 

his Ordination 211 



CONTENTS XI. 

PAGE 

Is ordained 212 

Letter XLVI. — To Mr. John Haddon. His unceasing 

Exertions and growing Delight in the Ministry 217 

Chap. III. 
Account of the last Week he spent on Earth 220 

Chap. IV. 

Circumstances of his Death 229 

The Sympathy of the public Feeling excited by his Loss. . . . 234 

The Testimonies of the public Prints to his Worth 235 

The Funeral 236 

Verses on the Death of the Rev. Thomas Spencer, by Mr. 

James Montgomery 239 



PART IV. 

Chap. I. 
Review of Mr. Spencer's Character 243 

Chap. II. 
Reflections , , , , 273 



APPENDIX. 

No. I. — Regeneration ; a Sermon, on James i. 18 i. 

No. IT. — Address at laying the first Stone of the new Chapel xix. 
No. III.— Funeral Oration delivered at the Grave of the 

Rev. Thomas Spencer, by the Rev. J. Fletcher xxiv. 



INTRODUCTION. 



SELDOM has a task so painfully arduous fallen 
to the lot of a biographer, as that which, in the 
mysterious providence of God, has unexpectedly 
devolved on me. The recollection of departed ex- 
cellence which a long- series of years had developed 
and matured, is mingled with a melancholy feeling, 
and not unfrequently excites the tribute of a tear: 
but the individual who erects a monument to friend- 
ship, genius, usefulness, and piety, prematurely 
wrapt in the oblivion of the grave, must necessarily 
prosecute his mournful work with trembling hands, 
and with a bleeding heart, jtind yet the mind is 
soothed by the communication of its sorrow ; the 
bosom is relieved of an oppressive burthen while it 
tells the virtues of the friend it mourns; and the best 
feelings of the heart are satisfied with the conscious- 



Z INTRODUCTION. 

ness, that instead of indulging in solitude the luxury 
of unavailing grief, it has employed its powers to 
pourtray, in lively colours, for the improvement of 
the living, the excellencies of the beloved and pious 
dead. For myself, with mournful pleasure, I hasten 
to sketch the rude outline of one of the loveliest and 
most finished characters the present age has known : 
— pausing only to express my deep regret, that one 
so ripe for heaven, and yet so eminently useful upon 
earth, should be called from the important sphere he 
occupied, so soon; and that to hands so feeble should 
be committed, — together with the solemn trust which 
he resigned in death, the painful duty of erecting 
this monument to his worth. 



jHemotrfi, $c. 



PART I. 

FROM HIS BIRTH TO HIS ENTRANCE INTO THE 
ACADEMY AT HOXTON. 



CHAP. I. 



The Parentage of Mr. Spencer. — His early Convictions of Siu. 
His Attachment to the Ministry. — His Diligence in the Acquisition 
of Knowledge. — He works at his Father's Business. 



THE Reverend Thomas Spencer was born 
at Hertford, January 21, 1791. — He was the se- 
cond son of parents, who, placed in the middle 
sphere of human life, were respectable for their 
piety, and highly esteemed in the circle in which a 
wise Providence had allotted them to move. It 
cannot be expected that any thing peculiarly inter- 
esting should mark the early childhood of a youth, 
retired from the observation of the world, and far 
removed from the influence of any of those circum- 
stances which might be considered as favourable to 
the excitation of latent talent, or the display of early 
genius. And yet the years of his infancy and child- 
hood were not undistinguished by intimations of a 
superior mind, from which a thoughtful observer 
might have been induced to augur something of his 



4 LIFE OF SPENCER. PART "■ 

future eminence. He himself observes, in a hasty 
sketch of his life which now lies before me, — " As 
far back as I can recollect, my memory was compli- 
mented by many as being very retentive, and my 
progress in knowledge was more considerable than 
that of my school-fellows ; a natural curiosity and 
desire of knowledge, I think I may say, without 
vanity, distinguished even the period of my infancy. 
I now remember questions that I asked when about 
four years old, which were rather singular, and 
which were confined chiefly to biblical subjects. 
No child could be more attached to places of wor- 
ship, or could be more inquisitive about their con- 
cerns than myself; and I may add, more given to 
imitate the actions of the minister and clerk."* 

When he had completed his fifth year, he suffered 
the severest earthly privation a child can know, in the 
loss of an affectionate mother. Though he was then 
too young correctly to appreciate a parent's worth, he 
deeply felt the stroke ; and in the liveliest manner he 
recalls the impressions which, at that early period, 
this melancholy circumstance produced upon his ten- 
der mind. " When the funeral sermon was preach- 
ed, I could not help noticing the grief which seemed 
to pervade every person present. Deeply affected 
myself, I recollect, that after the seryice, as I was 
walking about our little garden with my disconsolate 
father, I said to him, ' Father, what is the reason that 
so many people cried at the meeting this afternoon ? 
He, adapting his language to my comprehension, 
said, ' They cried to see little children like you 
without a mother."* This event, which shed so 
deep a gloom upon his family, seems to have excited 
emotions of a serious nature in his mind never to- 
tally effaced. 

From this time he applied himself with diligence 

• MS. Memoirs. 



chap i. LIFE OF SPENCER. 5 

and delight to the business of his school. There was 
at tins early age something amiable and engaging in 
his manners; and this, combined with his attention to 
his learning, soon secured the esteem and approba- 
tion of his respective teachers, and gained him, toge- 
ther with the first place and highest honours of his 
school, the character of " a good hoy." It is pleas- 
ing to mark the early combination of superior talent 
and sweetness of disposition in this extraordinary 
young man; and it would be well did the patrons of 
early genius more deeply ponder the reflection, that 
the graces of a meek and quiet spirit are far more 
estimable than the rare qualities of a prematurely 
vigorous mind ; and that the talents they cultivate 
with such anxious care, if unassociated with real 
excellence of soul, may render the idols of their 
fond adulation sources of anguish to themselves, 
and of incalculable mischief to mankind. 

Whilst a school-boy he became passionately fond 
of novels, histories, adventures, &c. which he de- 
voured with the greatest eagerness, in numbers truly 
astonishing. The perusal of these he always prefer- 
red to play and other amusements adapted to his 
years. He delighted much in solitude ; nor did he 
know a happiness superior to that of being alone, 
with one of his favourite books. He took no delight 
in the games of his companions, nor did he ever min- 
gle in their little feuds. His natural levity, however, 
was excessive ; and his wit, i'ed by the publications 
he so ardently perused, would often display itself in 
impurity of language, to the laughter and amusement 
of his fellows. Yet he was not without his moments 
of serious reflection, and that of a very deep and 
dreadful kind. — He was often overwhelmed with 
religious considerations, and the solemn sermons he 
sometimes heard filled him with terror and alarm. So 
intolerable at one period were the horrors of his 
mind, that in an agony of despair, he was tempted, 



6 LIFE OF SPENCER. rxRTJ. 

as many have been before him r to destroy himself. — 
Thus at an early age he became intimately acquaint- 
ed with the depravity of his nature ; and from the 
deep waters of spiritual distress through which he 
was called to pass, his soul imbibed an air of humi- 
lity and a habit of watchfulness, which enabled him 
to meet with firmness the dangers of popularity, and 
to maintain a steady course, notwithstanding the 
press of sail he carried. 

To these deep convictions of his early years may 
perhaps be traced the peculiarly pressing and empas- 
sioned manner of his address, when he strove to 
arouse the slumbering conscience, or direct the 
weary wanderer to the cross of Christ. The sa- 
cred poems and the passages of holy writ which most 
he loved, were those of a cast similar to that of his 
own fervent mind ; and I have heard many tell, with 
tears, of the animation and rapture with which he 
would often repeat from that beautiful hymn of Henry 
Kirke White, his favourite author, whom in many 
shades of character he much resembled, and alas I 
too much in his early and lamented fate — 



" Once on the stormy seas I rode, 

7 he storm was loud, the night was dark; 

The ocean yawn'd, and rudely biow'd 
The wind that toss'd my found'riug bark. 

Deep horror then my vitals froze; 

Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem,. 
When suddenly a star arose, 

It was the star of Bethlehem. 

It was my guide, my light, my all, 
It bade my dark forebodings cease ; 

And thro' the storm of danger's thrall, 
It led me to the port of peace. 

Now safely moor'd — my perils o'er, 
I'll sing' first in nights diadem, 

For ever and for evermore. 

The star!— the star of Bethlehem." 



e*Ar. I. LIFE OF SPENCER. 7 

The bias and inclination of his mind began at this 
early period to be disclosed. Preachers and preach- 
ing' seemed to occupy all his thoughts, and often he 
would exercise himself in addressing such domestic 
congregations as may be supposed to constitute the 
usual auditories of a child. Thus, in his earliest 
years, he displayed his fond attachment to the Chris- 
tian ministry, and the first efforts of his infant mind 
were directed to that sublime and dignified profes- 
sion, in which the capacities of his maturerage wers 
so brilliantly displayed. These infantine composi- 
tions were not unfrequently entirely his own ; and 
when they claimed not the merit of originality, they 
were derived from hints collected from what he had 
heard or read. But his preaching exhibitions could 
not long be confined to the narrow circle and scanty 
congregation his father's house supplied. Tidings 
of his. early pulpit talents soon circulated through 
the neighbourhood; many were anxious to listen to 
the instructions of this extraordinary child; and most 
regarded him, as he himself expresses it, " a parson 
in embryo." 

At this age also he wrote verses. He seems how- 
ever to have had but a mean opinion of his talent for 
poetry. It certainly was not the art in which he most 
excelled. Though an individual may have a power 
of rhyming sufficient for throwing his feelings into 
tolerably easy verse, yet something more than this is 
required in a production which, under the dignified 
title of a poem, is to meet the public eye. Most men 
of an enlightened mind and cultivated taste, have 
solicited the muses' aid for purposes of private in- 
struction and amusement, and the domestic and 
social circle have been privileged to share in both ; 
but it is not necessary to the perfection of the pulpit 
orator that he should be an exquisite poet, nor is it 
at all a detraction from the greatness of his charac- 
ter, that the world should hesitate to pronounce 



© LIFE OF SPENCER. parti. 

unqualified praise upon poetical effusions, on which 
the eye or the ear of friendship might linger with 
delight. 

These observations will serve to account for the 
circumstance, that none of Mr. Spencers poetical 
productions are preserved in these pages. And 
though some partial friends, who saw with pleasure 
the pieces which circulated in private, may regret, 
for the moment, their entire exclusion, his biogra- 
pher hopes that he shall render a more essential ser- 
vice to the memory of his departed friend by occu- 
pying their place with extracts from his papers of a 
more solid and interesting kind. 

These early displays of talent however introduced 
him to the notice and friendship of some individuals 
of wealth and consequence. This was doubtless 
considered by himself and his fond parent as no in- 
considerable circumstance in the history and pros- 
pects of a child, who, if he rose into eminence at all, 
could have no facilities afforded him by the auspi- 
cious omens of his birth, or the rank of his father's 
family. But alas ! the anticipations which he che- 
rished from this quarter, and perhaps with some 
degree of reason, were not all realized to the full 
extent to which his sanguine mind had urged them. 
It was doubtless well for him % however, that they 
were not. The disappointments of childhood will 
give a sober cast to the, otherwise, too glowing 
pictures and too anxious hopes of youth ; they will 
excite a caution in respect to the confidence which 
we should place in the prospects that unfold them- 
selves before us, and will admirably prepare the 
mind for the event, when the pledges of friendship lie 
long unredeemed, and the fair blossoms of hope are 
blasted and destroyed. 

In the mean time he applied himself with surpris- 
ing diligence to the acquisition of knowledge. In 
his favourite pursuit he met with the most important 



chap. '• LIFE OF SPENCER. 9 

aid from the valuable friendship of the late Rev. 
Fbenezer White, then the pastor of the Indepen- 
dent church at Hertford. — For this amiable and 
pious man, so early lost to the church of Christ,* 
Mr. Spencer ever cherished and expressed the 
warmest affection; whilst he survived but a few 
weeks the melancholy pleasure of paying the last 
tribute of respect to his beloved remains, and giving 
utterance to the warm and authorized feelings of 
his heart in a most impressive oration at his grave. 
From Mr. White he learned the rudiments of the 
Latin tongue; and though the early removal of that 
gentleman to Chester deprived him of his kind and 
valuable assistance, yet his father, who had discern- 
ment to perceive, and wisdom to foster, the unfold- 
ing talents of his son, afforded him the means of 
more ample instruction, by sending him to the best 
school his native town contained. Approbation can- 
not be expressed in language too unqualified of the 
conduct, in this respect, pursued by the parent 
of this amiable youth. Though in circumstances 
most unfriendly to the object, he nobly determined 
to make every possible sacrifice for the cultivation 
of a mind which promised to rise superior to the ob- 
scurity of its birth, and consecrate, at some future 
period, no common share of genius to the noblest 
and the best of causes. It is indeed to be deplored, 
that many important accessions are lost to the inter- 
ests of religion and of literature, from the walks of 
humble life, by the neglect of ignorant, or the re- 



* Mr. White died Sunday, May 5th, 1811. An interesting-memoir 
of his life (together with his select remains) has been published by 
the Rev. Joseph Fletcher, A. M. of Blackburn ; with a recommenda- 
tory preface, by the Rev. Dr. Collyer. of London. In the melancholy 
but pleasing task of selecting these papers for the press, Mr. Fletcher 
was originally joined by the subject, of these memoirs : — but whilst 
Mr. Spencer was thus engaged in rearing a monument to the memory 
of his departed friend — he too was suddenly removed, and it devolved 
upon the hand of friendship to perform the same office for himself. 

b2 



10 LIFE OF SPENCER. part i. 

luctance of sordid, parents. In the one case there 
is no capacity to discover the talents of the child, 
and in the other no disposition to make the sacrifice 
necessary for their cultivation. 

" Full many a gem of purest ray serene, 
The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear : 

Full many a flow'r is born to blush unseen. 
And waste its sweetness on the desert air." 

Gray. 

At about the age of twelve years Mr. Spencer 
considers himself to have become the subject of se- 
rious impressions of a deep and permanent kind, and 
to have felt something experimentally of the power 
of religion. This most interesting circumstance he- 
simply states in the memoir of his life before referred 
to, but mentions no particulars respecting the mode 
in which these impressions were wrought upon his 
mind, or in what way they operated upon his charac- 
ter, his conduct, and his views. The general effect, 
however, he distinctly records to have been, that of 
heightening his desire of the Christian ministry, for 
which, it was strongly impressed upon his mind, God 
had destined him; whilst it reconciled him to his pre- 
sent situation, which was most uncongenial to the 
bias of his mind, and most unfriendly to the accom- 
plishment of his ardent wishes; for the circumstances 
of his fathers family were at that time of such a na- 
ture as to render his assistance necessary between 
the hours of school, and at length to compel his. 
parent, however reluctantly, entirely to remove hinu 
But his removal from school was not in consequence 
of his father's having abandoned the idea of his 
one day entering on the work of the ministry. It 
was an act dictated by prudence, which afforded him 
an opportunity patiently to wait, and calmly to watch 
the leadings of Providence, and the occurrence of 
any cjrcumstanceswhich might tend to fix the future 
<destiny of his son. These prudential arrangements,. 



chap. i. LIFE OF SPENCER. 11 

however, were a source of the keenest anguish to 
the mind of Spencer. He bowed at first with reluc- 
tance to the yoke of manual labour, when but par- 
tially imposed — rapidly performed the appointed 
task, and leaped with joy from toils so repugnant to 
the elevated and ardent desires of his soul, to soli- 
tude and to books. " With the greatest grief," he 
observes, " I left school at thirteen years of age, 
and was employed at some of the worst branches of 
my father's business. I endeavoured to resign my- 
self as much as possible to my circumstances, and 
twisted zcorsted every day with a heavy heart." But 
religion, in early life, assumed in him its mildest and 
most amiable forms. Its characters were those of 
uncomplaining acquiescence in the arrangements of 
Providence, and cheerful resignation to his earthly 
lot. If indeed, with humble submission to the will 
of God, he occasionally uttered a warm expression 
of desire, and allowed his imagination to dwell upon 
the bright visions of better days, and the animating 
prospect of pursuits more congenial to the tone and 
inclination of his mind, which hope would often give, 
— it was natural : nor is it incompatible with the 
most perfect resignation to the divine will, thus to 
dwell on scenes of promised pleasure with delight. 

The writer, in thus recording the mingled feelings 
of his friend, has participated too deeply in circum- 
stances and emotions similar to his, not to do it with 
the warmth of sympathy. He knows how hard it is 
to give a cheerful and undivided attention to one 
pursuit, though less repugnant than mechanical em- 
ploy, when the heart is intently fixed upon another. 
Ill does the mind adapt itself to the narrow rules of 
business, the drudgery of manual labour, or the ha- 
bits of commerce, when panting after study, devoted 
to the love of books, or eager to engage in the 
noblest work that can occupy the powers of man, — - 
the ministry of the gospel : — impressed with a con- 



12 LIFE OF SrENCER. part i. 

sciousness, that if it is the will of God that the desire 
enkindled and cherished in the bosom should be ful- 
filled, some event will transpire to afford facilities 
and point the way, — but day after day expecting 
that event in vain, till " hope deferred makes the 
heart sick," and all the visions with which she has 
charmed, seem gradually yielding to the influence of 
despair. Yet even here, religion has a power to 
sooth : she sheds the milder influence of resignation, 
when the glare of hope is gone — 

" Gives even affliction a grace. 
And reconciles man to his lot. 5 ' 



CHAP. II. 



His removal to London. — His deportment, and the Exercises of his 
Mind duriug his Residence in the Poultry. — His Call to the Mi- 
nistry. 



MR. Spencer continued working at his fathers bu- 
siness and in his father's house, for about a year and 
a half, anxiously expecting some situation to pre- 
sent itself more congenial to his wishes: but no 
circumstance arose to interrupt the monotonous 
sameness of his every day's employ. It seems, how- 
ever, that he still attended to the cultivation of his 
mind, and never wholly lost sight of the Christian 
ministry. Meanwhile business languished, and his 
father was desirous of seeing him comfortably set- 
tled. Their mutual anxiety increasing to impatience, 
and his father reading on the cover of a Magazine 
an advertisement of a situation which appeared to 
be suitable, they set out for London ; but upon an 
interview with the advertiser, they found insuperable 
difficulties in the way, and returned, with disappoint- 
ment, to Hertford. 

Some weeks after this fruitless journey, Mr. Spen- 
cer was recommended by a friend, who also intro- 
duced him to Mr. Thodey's notice, to place his son 



14 LIFE OF SPENCER. Par t «■ 

with Messrs. Winwood and Thodey, respectable 
glovers in the Poultry. The first interview between 
the parties was satisfactory ; every arrangement was 
made preparatory to his being- bound apprentice, 
and Thomas soon after entered Mr. Thodey's 
house in his new capacity. The services con- 
nected with this situation, the better part of which 
was far from grateful to the wishes of his heart (still 
panting for the ministry with unconquerable attach- 
ment) were some of them such as his spirit, at first, 
but reluctantly submitted to perform; yet aware 
that, then, the providence of God pointed out no 
other path, he cheerfully acquiesced, and exchanged 
the calm and tranquil enjoyments of an endeared 
domestic circle for the society of strangers, the 
drudgery of a shop, and the bustle of the Poultry. — 
But here, as formerly at school, his engaging ap- 
pearance, amiable manners, and modest behaviour, 
soon won the affection of the family, (which was 
large,) whilst his fervent piety and superior talents 
excited emotions of a higher order. An extract 
of a letter, obligingly addressed to me from Mr. 
Thodey himselfj will best record his manner of life 
whilst under that gentleman's roof. 

" His appearance, his genuine modesty, diligence 
and integrity, created an interest in our hearts, so as 
it were almost to identify him as one of our own chil- 
dren : he shared our privileges ; united with us in 
family devotion ; and I occasionally took the same 
opportunities of conversing with him on divine things 
which I had been accustomed to do with all those 
under my care. I well recollect one sabbath even- 
ing being thus engaged with him alone, when, from 
his pertinent replies to some questions I put to him 
about the concerns of his soul, and the importance of 
an interest in the Saviour, I perceived he possessed 
an uncommon share of talent and intellect. This 
conversation gave me an impressive idea of his ge- 



chaimi. LIFE OF SPENCER. 15 

neral knowledge of the doctrines of the gospel, and 
I saw in him the traits of a very strong- and ardent 
mind." 

Whilst at Mr. Thodey's he conscientiously de- 
voted himself to the interests of his employers, not- 
withstanding his natural aversion to business. He 
became peculiarly attached to the family, and re- 
ceiving from them tokens of affectionate attention, 
superior to any thing he had a right to expect, and 
of which he always spoke with gratitude, he became 
as happy as the circumstances of his lot could pos- 
sibly allow him to be. He formed an acquaintance 
with several pious young men, who, though rather 
above his station, did not hesitate to respect genius 
and religion, even in a lad of inferior rank in life. 
Several times also he exercised his preaching talents 
at the house of a relation of the young man who was 
then his fellow-servant, but was afterwards a student 
in the same academy with himself, and is now a use- 
ful minister of the gospel.* 

He describes the exercises of Ins mind and the 
mode in which he passed his time, during his resi- 
dence in the Poultry, with great simplicity and 
feeling. 

" At this place my time was entirely employed, 
as it was fit it should be, in executing the will of my 
two masters: for the young man, who was active 
and friendly, I formed a great attachment, and was 
indeed interested in the welfare of the whole family. 
Marks of respect were shown me which were, I be- 
lieve, unusual to any of my predecessors, I made 
myself upon the whole tolerably comfortable; some 
difficulties and disagreeable circumstances of course 
fell to my lot, yet upon the whole I had many en- 



* The Rev. Thomas Heward, of Clare, to whom T cheerfully take 
this opportunity of publicly renderiug my thanks for several interest- 
ing letters of Mr. Speneer's, which will appear in these pages. 



10 LIFE OF SPENCER. parti, 

joyments. My acquaintance, whilst here, encreased: 
with several young men, who indeed were rather 
above my station in life, I was particularly intimate ; 
and more than twice or thrice did I give an exhor- 
tation at the house of a relative of the young man 
who was my fellow-servant. The opportunities I 
had of hearing the word were very delightful, and a 
higher relish was given to them by the toils and 
business of the week." # 

To youth who may be placed in similar circum- 
stances with the amiable subject of these memoirs, 
his mild and cheerful deportment in scenes so un- 
congenial to the bias of his mind, should prove a 
salutary and impressive lesson. Impatience and 
fretfulness are but ill adapted to the furtherance of 
any design, and a disposition to murmur, under the 
arrangements of our present lot, marks a state of 
mind most unfriendly to the patient endurance of 
the toils, the anxieties, and the disappointments in- 
separably connected with the ministerial life. It is 
an obvious fact, that every young man possessed of 
piety cannot be employed as a preacher of the gos- 
pel : whilst to such as conceive themselves endowed 
with talents for that solemn oiHce, and yet are placed 
in circumstances which seem to forbid the indul- 
gence of a hope they still cherish with an anxious 
pleasure, — the subsequent history of Mr. Spencer 
will afford another striking proof, in an innumerable 
series, that where God has actually called and qua- 
lified an individual for the ministry, he will* in his 
own time, and by unexpected methods, make the 
path of duty plain before that individual's feet. Let 
no one then rashly attempt to break the connected 
chain of opposing circumstances by which Provi- 
dence may have surrounded him ; but rather let him 
wait in patience till the hand that has thus encircled 

* MS. Memoirs* 



ch^p • "• LIFE OF SPENCER. 17 

him, opens a passage, and, by events which may 
justly be considered as intimations of the divine will, 
invites him to advance. 

These remarks, the result of frequent observations 
on the ways of God in cases similar to this, not im- 
properly connect the future scenes of Mr. Spencer's 
life with those we have already contemplated. For 
the time was now arrived that the cloud which had 
hovered over his future prospects should be dissi- 
pated, and another path, — a path to which he had 
from infancy directed his attention with fond antici- 
pation and intense desire, present its varied and 
momentous objects of pursuit for the vigorous, but, 
alas ! the short-lived exercise, of Ins superior powers. 
After a residence of about four months with his em- 
ployers in the Poultry, circumstances occurred of 
such a nature as to render his services no longer 
necessary, on which account he left London, and 
returned for a while to his parents at Hertford: but 
some time previous to the event which caused h;s 
departure from Londou, he had been introduced to 
the notice of Thomas Wilson, Esq. the benevolent 
and indefatigable treasurer of the Academy for edu- 
cating young men for the work of the ministry, at 
Hoxton. Mr. Wilson perceived in him piety and 
talents far above his years. His whole appearance 
and his engaging manners excited in that gentle- 
man's breast an interest in this amiable youth which 
he never lost ; and he gave it as his decided opinion, 
(without elating him with a hope, of the ultimate 
failure of which there was still a probability) that his. 
views should, in some way or other, be directed to- 
wards the ministry.* 



* In these views his employer, Mr. Thcdey, fully concurred, and 
kindly promised, if his continued conduct and piety should warrant 
him in so doing, he would cheerfully resign him for the work of the 
sanctuary, even though he should be bound apprentice; provided that 
it should appear to be the will of God he should be so engaged. 



18 LIFE OF SPENCER. parti. 

This revolution in Mr. Spencers affairs therefor© 
was not unnoticed or unimproved by Mr. Wilson, 
who wisely regarded it as a favourable opportunity 
for earning* into effect those generous designs re- 
specting him, which from their first interview he had 
cherished. He sent for him ; conversed with him 
upon the subject, and introduced him to the Rev. 
William Hordle, of Harwich, a gentleman to whose 
care some of the young men were commited, whose 
youth or other circumstances did not allow of their 
immediate entrance into the academy, though they 
were considered as proper objects of its patron- 
age. To this gentleman, at length, Mr. Wilson 
proposed to send Mr. Spencer for trial of his talents 
and piety, and for preparatory studies ; a proposi- 
tion to which Mr. Spencer acceded with unfeigned 
gratitude and joy. The time fixed for his entrance 
into Mr. Hordle's family was January, 1S06. The 
interval between this period and that of his depar- 
ture from the Poultry, which was in October, 1805, 
lie spent in his father's house, and for the most part 
in his father's business. Though this was repug- 
nant to his feelings, he had learned, by five months' 
absence, in the bustle of a shop in the city, to ap- 
preciate the calm and tranquil pleasures of a domestic 
circle, to which he became more endeared as the 
lovely qualities of his mind unfolded, and the dig- 
nified and pleasing prospects of his future life were 
disclosed. But though considerable light was thrown 
upon his destiny, yet on leaving London it was not 
finally determined. This pressed w r ith peculiar 
weight upon his spirit, which, susceptible of the 
slightest emotion, must have deeply felt, in leav- 
ing- one scene of action, the partial uncertainty 
which rested on the other. Of the day of his 
departure he thus writes: — " I anticipated it with 
mingled emotions: a strong desire to see my father, 



*"*«• n« LIFE OP SPENCER. 19 

mother,* brother, and sisters, a sensation of sor- 
row at parting with my old friends, and the idea 
of uncertainty as to my future engagements in life, 
equally affected me. Although I had been absent 
from home but live months, the desire I had again to 
see Hertford was very great ; nor do I suppose I 
shall often spend more pleasant evenings than the 
first I spent at home, after the first time of being- 
absent for any considerable season: two or three 
davs were spent in seeing other relations and friends, 
till— ."f 

Here the narrative, first referred to, and often 
quoted, written by his own hand, and evidently for 
his own use, abruptly closes; and here for a moment 
his biographer will pause. It is a charming do- 
mestic piece, which the hand of his departed friend, 
obedient to the warm and vivid recollections of his 
fervent mind, has sketched; but scarcely has he 
pictured it to himself and committed the rude out- 
line to his paper, than he is suddenly called off, 
and lays down the recording pen for ever! So 
did his life abruptly terminate. But the mysterious 
voice that summoned him from his endeared con- 
nexions upon earth, introduced his emancipated 
spirit to the bosom of a happier family above ; not 
another family, but one most intimately connected 
with his own, for which whilst here, he cherished such 
a warm affection. The sentiment this sentence 
breathes was familiar to himself, and often seen in 
the energy and fervour with which he would repeat 
these admirable lines: — 



" One family, we dwell in him; 

One church above, beneath, 
Though now divided by the stream, 

The narrow stream of death. 

His step-mother. f MS. Memoirs. 



20 LIFE OF SPENCER. 

One at my of the living God, 
To his command we bow ; 

Part of the host have crcss'd the flood, 
And part are crossing now. 

Ten thousand to their endless home, 

This aw fill moment fly ; 
And we are to the margin come, 

And soon expect to die. 

Dear Jesus, be our constant guide; 

Theu wheu the word is giv'n, 
Bid death's cold stream and flood divide, 

And land us safe in heav'n " 



CHAP. III. 



His Residence at Harwich. — His Attention to his Studies — The 
Progress of Religion in his Soul. — His Correspondence with Mr. 
Heward — His Admission into the Academy at Hoxton. 



AT Harwich Mr. Spencer was completely in his 
element. He commenced the year 1806 in Mr. 
Hordle's family, and was about completing the fif- 
teenth of his own life. At this interesting- age, when 
the powers of the mind begin rapidly to unfold, — 
when a tone is often given to the future cast of 
thought, and sentiments are imbibed and habits 
formed, which constitute the basis or become the 
germ of the matured and finished character; — it was 
a circumstance peculiarly auspicious in the history of 
this lamented youth, that he was introduced to the 
pious and enlightened care of such a man as Mr. 
Hordle. In his preaching, in his lectures, and in 
his conversation, he saw most admirably applied, 
those elementary principles of theological science, 
the scholastic forms of which must else have been 
unintelligible or insipid, to his mind; whilst he 
almost imperceptibly formed his opinions and his 



22 LIFE OF SPENCER. ** RT *• 

character by the correct standard and amiable model 
constantly before him. 

It must be of incalculable advantage to a young 
man destined for the Christian ministry, as it evi- 
dently was to our departed Spencer, to pass a year 
or two beneath a faithful and enlightened pastor's 
roof, — to be a spectator of his toil, — a daily wit- 
ness of the varied scenes of duty and of trial which 
the Christian ministry perpetually presents. It is 
true, that in academies, lectures on the pastoral 
care are read, and discourses on the duties of 
the Christian ministry delivered: but one week 
of actual observation must impress more deeply on 
the mind, than months or years of the most devoted 
study, all that such lectures can contain, and un- 
numbered other circumstances, equally important, 
but which no general analysis can include. And 
to the diligent improvement of tins peculiar ad- 
vantage, perhaps, may in part be attributed that 
early maturity at which Mr. Spencers capacity for 
the sacred office had arrived. He had the serious- 
ness, the reflection of the pastor, while but a student; 
and when he actually entered on that holy office, 
the exercises of the pulpit, and the habits of his 
ministerial life, bespoke the knowledge of long 
experience, rather than of recent theory, and in- 
dicated the presence of a master s, not a learners 
Land. 

At Harwich his diligence was exemplary : a ju- 
dicious course of reading was marked out for him 
by his respected tutor, which he conscientiously and 
unweariedly pursued. Besides this, he had the 
use of an excellent library, with rich supplies from 
which he occupied his leisure hours. He had 
made some considerable progress in the Latin; 
and soon after his introduction to Mr. Hordle, he 
commenced, under his direction, the study of the 
Hebrew. With this sacred language he was par- 



♦hap in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 23 

ticularly pleased, and soon demonstrated his attach- 
ment and his diligence, by completing, with consi- 
derable labour, an abridgment of Parkhurst's He- 
brew Lexicon. This work he accomplished in a 
small pocket manual, which proved of considerable 
use to him, and was almost his constant companion.* 

Here, too, he first became acquainted with the 
principles of Moral Philosophy; and whilst from the 
lectures of Doddridge, and the essays of Locke, his 
mind derived vigour and energy; from the study of 
the Latin poets, and the classic authors of our own 
country, it obtained amusement, and his compositions 
gradually assumed an air of elegance and ease. 

But not only in literature and science was his pro- 
gress conspicuous during his residence at Harwich ; 
he also made considerable advances in the knowledge 
and experience of divine things. That in the midst 
of all his studies, which still he pursued with dili- 
gence and ardour, religion was the chief object of 
his regard, is evident from the uniform strain of his 
letters to his most intimate and beloved friend Mr. 
Heward, whose fellow-labourer he had been at Mr. 
Thodey's, and the privation of whose society he 
seemed deeply to deplore. His views of the Chris- 
tian ministry became more and more consistent, and 
the impression of its vast importance more deep and 
solemn on his mind. The intense desire with which 
he panted for that sacred and honourable office was 
tempered, though never checked, by an awe of its 
vast responsibility, and a consciousness of incapacity 
for the full discharge of its numerous and laborious 
duties. 

With Mr. Hordle he would sometimes indulge in 

• Of this manual he made two fair copies, one of which is in pos- 
session of his tutor, and the other is amongst the. papers from which 
these memoirs are compiled. The design is honourable to his judg- 
ment, and the execution to, his perseverance and his accuracy at that 
early age. 



24 LIFE OF SPENCER. parti. 

the most free and unreserved conversation on the state 
of his heart, and his private walk with God. In such 
communications he was always much affected. Sus- 
ceptible, from the constitution of his nature, of the 
most dehcate impressions and the keenest feel- 
ing's, it may be well supposed that in religion he 
would deeply feel. Hence the tenderness of his 
conscience and the susceptibility of his mind, would 
often overwhelm his bosom with convictions of guilt, 
and agitate him with unnumbered inward conflicts. 
Yet in the midst of all he evidently grew in spiritual 
strength — his mind acquired confidence — Ins prin- 
ciples became daily more and more confirmed — and 
he had advanced far in a deep and experimental ac- 
quaintance with the ways of God at an age when 
such advancement is rarely to be found. 

Whilst at Harwich he regularly shared with Mr. 
Hordle the pleasing duty of conducting the devotions 
of the family, and frequently performed the domes- 
tic service with an enlargement of heart, and a fer- 
vour and propriety of expression truly astonishing. 
But this was a circumstance he particularly wished 
should be concealed. His modesty and diffidence 
shrunk from the observation of men, even of his 
nearest friends; and in one of Ins letters* he writes, 
" My situation is comfortable, — more so than ever: 
I am considered like one of the family; of an evening 
I generally, by Mr. H.'s desire engage in family 
prayer; he hi the morning. O tell it io nobody on 
any account. When he is out I always do." 

To those who knew not the beloved original, the 
outlines of whose character these pages but imper- 
fectly present, the detail of minute particulars may 
be uninteresting and insipid; but those who were 
familiar with him will dwell with pleasure on the 
iaintest lineament that may be here preserved of a 

* To Mr Heward. 



chap in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 25 

dear departed friend, so ardently, so deservedly es- 
teemed ; whilst a combination of these varied and 
retired beauties form a portrait on which the eye of 
a stranger may dwell with admiration, and the mind 
reflect with profit. It is in confidence of this that 
his biographer pauses to record another and a pleas- 
ing trait in his character at this early age — the pecu- 
liar warmth and constancy of his friendship. He 
seems, indeed, at this period, to have had but one 
bosom friend, except those of his own immediate 
family : to him his letters breathe an affection the 
most glowing, spiritual, and pure; and perhaps no 
little incident more strikingly displays the tender cast 
of his mind, than that,which he himself relates, with 
great simplicity, in a letter to his friend : — 

" This morning we read (Mr. H. and myself) the 
second night of Young's Night Thoughts — the very 
place that treats of friendship ; I was rather affected 
at the reading of it; and after it was finished, and 
we were alone, I told him, (Mr. H.) I was no stran- 
ger to Young's sentiments in that place. He asked 
me 'if I had lost any friends?' I told him, no, 
not by death. He asked me • if I had by treachery?' 
O no, sir. ' How then V Only by separation /" 

Thus, in pleasant and familiar intercourse with 
one, for whom he mingled veneration with affection, 
and of whom he never ceased to speak with all the 
rapturous energy of gratitude and filial love — in ex- 
ercises and pursuits every way adapted to satisfy his 
ardent thirst for knowledge — in scenes and in so- 
ciety congenial to the tone and bias of his mind — in 
conscientious preparation for closer studies and se- 
verer labour, previous to his entrance on that sacred 
office, long the object of his choice— and in deep 
communion with himself and God — he passed the 
allotted period of Ins stay at Harwich. 

As the term (a year) fixed for his residence with 
Mr. Hordle drew towards its close, his anxiety con- 
c 



26 LIFE OF SPENCER. *a«t i, 

siderably increased. He anticipated, with regret, a 
departure from scenes and society so much-endeared 
to him; and the trial through which he was to pass, 
previous to his admission into the academy at Hox- 
ton, when viewed in connexion with his youth, ex- 
cited in his mind considerable apprehension and 
dread. But the hope of success never entirely 
abandoned him; whilst the pleasing prospect of 
being again associated with his friend, who had by 
this time entered as a student in the same academy, 
tended not a little to gladden and animate his heart. 

In November he drew up a statement of his reli- 
gious experience, his views of theological truth, and 
his reasons/or desiring the Christian ministry, ac- 
cording to a standing order of the academy with 
respect to young men proposing themselves as can- 
didates for its patronage. These papers, written 
in a style of dignified simplicity, and disclosing a 
knowledge and experience of divine things, which, 
in a youth scarcely sixteen years of age, must have 
excited the admiration of all to whom they were 
submitted, — were duly presented to the committee, 
and passed; though not without some difficulty, 
arising from his age. But the extraordinary quali- 
fications he appeared to possess, and the strong 
recommendation of his friend and tutor, Mr>Hor- 
die, overcame this obstacle, and the 5th of January 
following was appointed for his personal appearance 
before the constituents of that institution, in order 
to give them a specimen of his talents for public 
speaking. 

Mr. Spencer left Mr. Hordle's family on the 18th . 
of December, and spent the interval of time between 
his departure from Harwich and the day of his exa- 
mination at Hoxton (which was postponed to the 
7th of January) at his father's house at Hertford. 

Whose imagination does not follow this beloved 
youth into the bosom of his family again! Who, 



WU*.m. LIFE OF SPENCER. 27 

does not picture to himself the charming scenes of 
social and domestic joy bis presence would inspire ! 
With what tenderness and affection would his vene- 
rable father bid him welcome to his paternal home 
once more ! With what delight would he gaze upon 
the animated features of his countenance, smiling 
in all the ingenuousness of youth; while, with emo- 
tions of a higher order, he marked the unfolding 
graces of his mind, saw his improvement in the best 
of sciences — religion, and beheld him daily growing 
in favour both with God and man. With what ador - 
ing gratitude would they retrace together the scenes 
of his childhood, and the many alarming obstacles 
which once almost forbad the indulgence of a hope 
that the object of their ardent wish would ever be 
attained ; and how, in the transport of those happy 
hours, would his family anticipate for him they loved, 
in the future stages of an honourable ministry, years 
of usefulness and comfort. All! pleasing visions 
never to "be realized ! Little did that interesting 
group conceive that it was his appointed lot but just 
to taste the joys and sorrows of a pastor's life, and 
then expire. Already they had seen the bud swell- 
ing with fulness — teeming with life ; — now they be- 
held the blossom, and admired its beauty ; and they 
thought long to gaze upon the promised charms of 
the unfolded flower. Happy strangers to the me- 
lancholy and mysterious fact, that so soon as it had 
opened, it must be suddenly cut down and die ! But 
such and so frail is man — " In the morning they are 
like grass which groweth up ; in the evening it is cut 
down and wither eth,"* Such and so uncertain is 
human life — " It is even a vapour that appearetii 
for a little time, and then vanisheth away."f 

At this interesting period of Mr. Spencer's life it 
will be perhaps gratifying to the reader to pause, and 

• Psalm xc. -5, 6. t James iv. H. 



28 LIFE OF SPENCER. * AHT '• 

gain a more familiar acquaintance with bim, than 
can be obtained by a narration of events and cir- 
ccmstances in his history, by perusing some extracts 
from his correspondence and other papers, which 
will throw much light upon the formation of his cha- 
racter, and afford a pleasing specimen of his early 
genius. 

I have now before me a packet of letters addressed 
to his friend Mr. Heward, dated at various periods, 
from October 1805, to December 1806. Though 
at the commencement of this correspondence he had 
not attained his 15th year, these letters breathe a 
spirit of the purest piety, and often express senti- 
ments by which age would not be dishonoured, in 
a style remarkably correct and vigorous. But the 
reader shall participate with me in the pleasure which 
the perusal of this interesting correspondence— this 
simple and unaffected utterance of early piety and 
friendship, has afforded me. 



Letter T. 
TO MR. HEWARD. 



« Hertford, Oct 16, 1805. 

« \ s f or tlie manner in which I have and 

do employ my time : my father employs me either in 
writing or in his business, more than I expected. 
What leisure time I have, which is but little, I em- 
ploy in reading, writing, and meditation. I hope 
he will not press upon me that employment which E 
dislike, but which however I have been engaged in. 

" Mr. Wilson wrote a letter to my father, the sub- 
stance of which is as follows: — he informs him that 
if it is possible he will get a minister to take me, in 
order to see more of my piety and talents ; and hopes 
that it will be agreeable for me to be at home with 
my father till Christmas. 



chap. ni. LIFE OF SPENCER. 29 

" These are the circumstances under which I am 
now placed. I know it is my duty to be submissive 
and resigned to the will of God, but this is a lesson 
which, like all others, is to be learned. at the cross of 
Christ : 'tis there alone, my dear friend, we can study 
all heavenly graces and duties ." 



It is pleasing to observe with what deep serious- 
ness of mind he conducted those favourite exercises 
in exhortation and in preaching, before referred to,* 
and with what humility, and even thankfulness, he 
listened to the animadversions of any who were dis- 
posed to criticise. In another part of the same letter 
he says — 

" I am not without hope, that I shall praise 

and adore a blessed God for the ill opinions those 
persons formed of me who heard me preach at Mr. 

X *s. Methinks T cannot be thankful enough 

to you for informing me of it. It has, I trust, made 
me more watchful and prayerful than before, that I 
maybe accounted righteous, not in the sight of men^ 
but in the view of a sin-avenging God. Thus we 
may see a little of the dealings of Providence witlj 
his children. When he distresses them in any way 
he does it for their good. ' All things,' saith the in- 
spired apostle, * work together for good to them 
that love God, and are the called according to his 
purpose.' — Since that evening I have felt a little 
more comfort in my own mind respecting eternal 
things. God forbid it should be a false peace. 
Hope you keep close to a throne of grace in per- 
sonal prayer. 'Tis from thence we are to draw all 
our comfort ; 'tis there we can get a soul-transform- 
ing spiritual view of Jesus ; 'tis from thence we get 

• See page 18. 



30 LIFE OF SPENCER* i-ARt f. 

every necessary weapon wherewith to combat our 
spiritual enemies* 

" So often called away to attend to different things, 
like you I cannot say I have written such a letter as 
I could wish. If I should be placed under a minister 
I think I should have more opportunity for writing- 
long letters. — However, let us, whenever an oppor- 
tunity offers, write to each other. Such love as ours 
is not easily quenched. Let us then manifest it by 
writing to each other, so as to stir up one another to 
the exercise of every Christian grace* Still let us 
keep our eye upon the Lord Jesus Christ, and be 
constantly concerned to honour his holy name by a 
consistent walk and conversation J then shall we 
meet to part no more, and dwell for ever with our 
Jesus, in upper, better, brighter worlds. 

" The soul that on Jesus has lean'd for repose, 
He will not, he cannot, desert to his foes : 
That soul, tho' all hell should endeavour to shake. 
He'll mver, no never, no never, forsake." 



Soon after it was determined that he should go 
to Harwich for a twelvemonth, he wrote again to his 
friend Mr. Heward, and the following extract from 
his letter, shews the humble, grateful, and devotional 
habit of Ins mind. 



Letter II. 
TO MR. HEWARD. 



" Hertford. Nov. 12, 1805. 
" I join with you in saying, ' how wonder- 
ful are God's ways !' We indeed little thought that 
Mr. H. was the person under whom I should be in- 



chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 31 

structed, when we were at Hoxton, hearing him 
preach; or I, when I breakfasted with him: at the 
same time, I cannot forbear adoring' that favour 
which is shewn to me from God : me, who am ut- 
terly unworthy of the least of all God's mercies. 
Goodness and mercy have hitherto followed me, and, 
I doubt not, will, through life. May that goodness 
which was so gloriously displayed in the salvation 
of sinners, and that mercy which has snatched so 
many brands from the burning, be our consolation 
all through life — our joy in death — and the burden 
of our song to all eternity." 



The following observations are worthy of a much 
older pen, and display a judgment and discretion, 
rather unusual in a lad, not jet fifteen years of age. 



Letter III. 
TO MR. HEWARD. 



" Xov. 13. 
You informed me in your last, that your desires 
for the work of the ministry had not at all abated. I 
sincerely wish that they may be fulfilled, and that you 
and I may be fellow-labourers in the Lord's vine- 
yard. God certainly can do this for us ; let us pray 
that he may. You still appear dubious of your own 
ability for that important work : I would have you 
consider, that God works by whom he will work. 
He has many ministers in his church, real sent mi- 
nisters, who have not those great gifts that distin- 
guish many of his servants ; and not only so, but 
these men have often been the means of doing more 
good than those of great talents — and what is the 



32 LIFE OF SPENCER. rART r * 

reason of this ? ' Even so, Father, for so it seemed 
good in thy sight,' — is all that we must say. And 
you, my worthy friend, should also remember, that 
as yet, you cannot form any idea of your own abi- 
lities. As I have often told you, when I lived with 
you, I doubt not your abilities, when improved by 
application to study, &c will be as fit for that eni- 
ploy (if the will of God) as any other. God, you 
know, in every thing- acts as a sovereign : * I will 
work, and who shall let it,' is his language — will 
work by the feeblest means, and the weakest instru- 
ments. I hope you will still be kept low in your 
own eyes, for that, I am sure, is one quality, or ra- 
ther property, of a Gospel minister. At our best 
estate we are altogether vanity, and less than no- 
thing. May the Lord keep us all truly humble. 
Luther used to say, there were three things made a 
minister — affliction, meditation, and prayer ; that is, 
sanctified affliction, scriptural meditation, and earn- 
est prayer ; in which last particular I hope you are 
perpetually engaged. Pray, my dear friend, for 
direction of God — pray for grace, which is of more 
value, by far, than great gifts, and say in the lan- 
guage of resignation, hope, and faith — ■ Here am 
J, Lord, send me to labour in thy vineyard.' You 
have appealed to me in saying, * You well know, I 
shall never rely on my own strength for success and 
usefulness.' — I know you will not, (at least whilst in 
your present mind) and I pray that God would keep 
you still so determined. Let us then pray, that we 
may both of us be made able, useful, and humble 
ministers of the New Testament, 

et 1 am glad to find, that you generally 

hear three times a day. Young men, who wish to 
be ministers, cannot hear too much of the Gospel, 
provided they are anxious to improve on what they 
do hear — ." 



chap, in, LIFE OF SPENCER. 3$ 

I shall present the reader with nearly the whole 
of the following letter ; and I think that few will be 
found, on the perusal, who deem it unworthy of pre- 
servation. It contains a pleasing, grateful (and the 
more pleasing, as it is entirely uninfluenced) tribute 
to the memory of departed worth — discloses the deep 
attention and care with which, at that early age, he 
was accustomed to hear and reflect upon sermons, 
and shews how incessant was the panting of his heart 
for the Christian ministry. 



Letter IV. 
TO MR. HEWARD. 



" Hertford, Nov. 18, 1805. 

" My dearest Friend, 

" I expected to have heard from 
you before now, but as I have not, it becomes me to 
bear the disappointment with fortitude and resolu- 
tion, hoping that it will not be long before I have a 
few lines from you. On Saturday last, I heard that 
that good and worthy man, Mr. Winwood, was 
dead. It will, I doubt not, be a great stroke to the 
family ; but I am well assured, that to him death 
was eternal gain. Truly, * the righteous hath hope 
in his death.' May you and I both be found at the 
last day on the right hand of the Judge with our 
respected master ! While he is tuning his harp to 
the praises of a precious Jesus, we have to combat 
with many enemies ; we have many trials to pass 
under 

Before we reach the heavenly fields, 
Or walk the golden streets !* 

We shall, I am persuaded, feel our own depravity ia 

• Alas ! lamented youth ! little, did he, or the friend to whom he 
wrote, imagine how few his trials— how short his warfare wouid 

c2 



34 LIFE OF SPENCER. part r. 

many instances here below, ere we join with him in 
everlasting songs above; but if we are enlisted under 
the banners — the blood-stained banners of the cross, 
we shall certainly arrive there. Let us then seek, 
earnestly seek, after the one thing needful ; and 
whilst earthly objects vanish and decay in our esti- 
mation; nay, whilst the world dies daily in our view, 
and its perishing things appear in their proper light 
— may we feel our hearts panting after the wells of 
salvation ; our souls, with all their faculties, engaged 
in the noblest of all undertakings — our feet running 
in the good ways of God — our tongues making 
mention of his righteousness, and of his only — in 
short, may we be crucified to the world — risen with 
Christ — and transformed into his divine image and 
likeness. This, I trust I can say, is my desire, and 
I know it is the earnest wish of my dear friend. 

" Sabbath-day, November 15,1 heard Mr. Mo- 
rison,* at Cowbridge, in the morning, from I. Thes- 
salonians, chap. v. ver. 8. ' But let us, who are of 
the day, be sober, putting on the breastplate of 
faith and love, and for an helmet the hope of salva- 
tion.' He first shewed what was implied in Chris- 
tians being of the day ; secondly, enforced the ex- 
hortation of the text. To be of the day, he said, 
implied — 1. a state of knowledge ; 2. safety : 3. com- 
fort, &c. In enforcing the admonition, he exhorted 
them to the exercise of faith and love ; gave them good 



pxpvp — aud how soon the pious desire of his heart should be, as it 
respected himself, fulfilled : but thus mysterious are the ways of God 
* — Spencer is early summoned to his rest, but his companion is left, 
still to maintain the conflict, whilst he mourns his loss — " then shall 
two be in the field, the one shall be taken and the other left. 1 ' Mat. 
.xxiv. 40. 

• The present laborious and successful missionary at Canton, by 
whose labours the whole of the New Testament is already trans- 
lated into the language of China,, and circulating through that vast 

janpirju. 



chap. nt. LIFE OP SPENCER; 35 

grounds for hope ; and shewed lhat these three 
graces had a tendency to comfort and strengthen 
believers. In the afternoon, from Acts xvii. 30, 3L 
* The times of this ignorance God winked at, but 
now commandeth all men, every where, to repent, 
because he hath appointed a day in which he will 
judge the world in righteousness, by that man whom 
he hath ordained, whereof he hath given assurance 
unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the 
dead.' He considered — 1. the certainty of a future 
judgment; 2. the person of the judge; 3. the cir- 
cumstances of the day ; 4. the necessity of repent- 
ance inferred from the text. He, indeed, is a wor- 
thy man, and appears well suited for a missionary. 

In the evening £ heard Mr. L , at the Chapel, 

from John, chap. iii. ver. 14. ' For as Moses lifted 
up the serpent in the wilderness,' &c. He said many 
good things, and is very earnest in the good cause. 
Last Lord's day we had Mr. Morison again : text 
in the morning, Hebrews, chap. vi. ver. 11. ' And 
we desire that every one of you do shew the same 
diligence to the full assurance of hope unto the end.' 
He considered — 1. the thing mentioned — the full 
assurance of hope ; 2. shewed that it might be at- 
tained ; 3. exhorted them to diligence in aspiring 
after it. Time and room forbid me to make any 
remarks upon the sermon (which was a good one) 
in the afternoon, from Acts, chap. xvi. ver. 9. 
' There stood a man of Macedonia and prayed him, 
saying, Come over and help us.' In discoursing oa 
it he shewed — 1. that the heathens want help,; %. 
that it is the duty of ministers and people to give it 
them ; and, 3. that men should exert themselves (or 
the purpose. It appeared like a collection sermon; 
and he went afterwards and got a little money of a 
few friends at Hertford, for the mission to China, t 
i " In the evening, having been previously invited, 
I went" at six o'clock to Mr. K-— r^-\ to. see the 



36 * LIFE OF SPENCER. pabt r. 

minister. I was there daring family worship ; and 
after that Mr. Morisou and self went up stairs to 
talk a little together. He asked me about my learn- 
ing, Sec; then how long I had been seriously dis- 
posed, Sec. He appeared satisfied with my answers, 
and asked me if I was not going* into the country ; 
I told him ' yes.' He asked me if I should have an 
opportunity of attending to my books there. This 
naturally led to the whole affair : he seemed glad, 
and asked me if I designed to be a minister in this 
country. I told him I wished to be quite resigned 
to the will of Providence in that matter. He gave 
me some good advice ; and then we knelt down, and 
he engaged in a short and affectionate prayer. I 
was much affected with the advice, conversation, 
and prayer. 

" I am sensible that your attachment to me 

is as unshaken as ever. I hope you pray that both 
of us may be made ministers of the Gospel ; and, in 
some future day, have our wishes respecting that 
completely fulfilled. I am very desirous that you 
may be shortly placed hi a situation in which you 
will have more leisure for reading, writing, study- 
ing, &c. O that you were going with me to Har- 
wich. Still continue to pray for one who feels his 
own unworthiness for the service of Ins God, and 
yet wishes to be an instrument of doing great good 
to souls : and if I should not be very successfiil in 
my ministry, me thinks it would be reward enough 
to have laboured for God, and not to have been em- 
ployed in the drudgery of Satan." 



The next letter, to the same correspondent, con- 
tains a specimen of his talent for the composition of 
sermons at that age. It affords a pleasing proof of 



chap. in. life OF SPENCER. 37 

his early skill in the practice of an art, in which he 
eventually so much excelled. 



Letter V. 
TO MR. HEWARD. 



" Hertford, Bee. 3, 180,5. 

" 1 have sent you my thoughts upon 

(or rather my way of discussing) that text Mr. Knight 
preached from. I hope your candour will excuse 
imperfections. I never read any thing upon it, and 
it is the production of a boy. 

Matthew, chap. v. ver. 20. 
" For I say unto you, That except your righ- 
teousness shall exceed the righteousness of the 
Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into 
the kingdom of heaven." 

GENERAL HEADS» 

I. — Explain the nature of the righteous- 
ness of the Scribes and Pharisees. 

II. — Shew in what respects our righ- 
teousness must exceed theirs. 

III. — Notice the consequences of posses- 
sing a righteousness no better than 
theirs. 

1st Head. — Explain the nature, &c. 

It was self-righteousness. — Luke xviii. 9. 
1st. — This righteousness is founded in ignorance 

Of God's nature, 

Of the spirituality of his law, 

Of the deceitfulness of the heart, 

And of the true method of salvation. 



88 LIFE OF SPENCER. PART « 

2d Head.— Shew in what respects our 

RLCHTEOUSNESS SHOULD EXCEED THEIRS. 
The righteousness here termed ' yours,' is the 
righteousness of Christ, which becomes ours by im- 
putation, in the same manner as our sins became 
Christ's. This righteousness thus becoming ours, 
exceeds the righteousness of the Scribes and Pha- 
risees, 

1 st. — In its origin. It is divine — the other human, 
or Satanic ; as we doubt not, Satan first infused 
self-righteous thoughts into the minds of men, &c. 
2d. — Its nature and particular properties. 
This righteousness 

Delivers us from bondage, 
Saves us from sin, N 

Gives us holiness of life, 
Makes us victorious in death, 
Joyful in judgment, and 
Happy through all eternity. 
The righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees 
cannot do this. 

But our Lord might also allude to that righteous- 
ness which is implanted in us, as well as that which 
is imputed to us, and that far exceeds the righteous- 
ness of the Scribes and Pharisees in its effects, 
which are real good works, which 
Spring from a good motive, 
Are directed to a good purpose, 
And have a good end. 
These works are not meritorious, but serve for 
the justification of our faith, not of our persons, and 
they far exceed the legal performances of the self- 
righteous. 

3d Head. — Notice the consequences of pos- 
sessing A RIGHTEOUSNESS NO BETTER 
THAN THEIRS. - 

Ye shall in no case enter into, fyc. 



chaf.iU. LIFE OF SPENCER. 39 

1st. — Here we must necessarily dwell a little upon 
the nature of the kingdom of heaven. — Consider 

1. The person of the king. 

2. The happiness of the subjects. 

3. The eternal duration of his reign, &c. 

2d. — How dreadful a thing to he shut out of this 
kingdom. 

3d. — How peculiarly striking is the language of the 
Saviour, Ye shall in no case, fyc. 
Notwithstanding all your professions, long prayers, 

alms-giving, &c. Ye shall in no case enter into the 

kingdom of heaven. 

From this subjective draw a few inferences. 

1. — We learn Irom hence the evil nature of sin. 
If all self- righteousness be so bad, what must 
unrighteousness be I 

2. — We here see the only true method of salvation — 
the righteousness of Christ. 

3. — How necessary is daily, serious self-examina- 
tion, in order to ascertain to which class we 
belong. 

4. — We likewise infer the necessity of prayer, for 
instruction and grace. 

5. — How dreadful is the case of the self-righteous 
character. 

6. — The believer may hence drazv some comfort. He 
is interested in Jesus Christ, and shall outride 
all the storms and troubles of life, sing the 
dear name of Jesus in the hour of death, and 
stand unmoved amidst the jarring elements, 
' the wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.' 

*' May the God of hope bless us both — fill us with 
all joy and peace in believing — give us to see more 
and more of the sinfulness of our nature — the de- 
pravity of our hearts — the imperfection of our graces 
— the smallness of our knowledge — the sufficiency 
of Jesus — the stability of our hope— the fulness of 



40 LIFE OF SPENCER. parti. 

Christ. May he give us to see that our names are 
written in heaven ; — may he brighten up our evi- 
dences for glory — establish our faith — enlarge our 
desires — and give us hungerings and thirs tings after 
righteousness. May we enjoy the blessings of sal- 
vation — the sweetness of communion with God — ■ 
the peace bought and purchased for us by Christ 
Jesus — and that joy in the Holy Ghost, produced 
by his influences — and may we learn more and more 
of the heights, lengths, depths, and breadths of the 
love which passeth knowledge. May we dwell to- 
gether in that happy land, where none but the righ- 
teous can enter, and where our worship shall be 
undisturbed. 

" And now, my dear brother, I commend you to 
the hands of that God who doth all things well, and 
who taketh care of those who put their trust in him; 
and hoping soon to hear from you, I subscribe my- 
self, . 
" Your truly affectionate friend, 

" THOMAS SPENCER.* 

N. B. " Remember me to . Pray for 

me, and may the Lord bless you. Amen e " 



Letter VI. 
TO MR. HEWARD. 



" Hertford, December 31, 1805. 

" My dear Friend, 

" I think myself very happy in having 
such a friend as you prove yourself to be. I knoAV 
affection towards me is too deeply rooted in you ever 
to be erased by separation. Life's greatest blessing 
is a well chosen friend, and I do feel it so. You 
cannot imagine (only by your own feelings) what 
pleasure I take in recollecting past scenes, and re- 



chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 41 

calling- to the mind occurrences relating only to us, 
which never shall he forgotten, I hope we have the 
same ' friend that sticketh closer than a brother.' 
I am affected, peculiarly affected, when I read the 
solemn confessions you make of depravity, &c. You 
know Paul acknowledged himself the chief of sin- 
ners. When, therefore, you are bowed down under 
a sense of sin, look unto Jesus; there only salvation 
is to be found for those who, like you, are sensible 
of sin. But I verily believe my friend has already 
been washed in the fountain of his blood. Yes, I 
doubt not but you have passed from death unto life, 
and are called according to God's eternal purpose ; 
therefore, instead of writing bitter things against 
yourself, rejoice in Christ Jesus, whilst you have no 
confidence in the flesh. Ah! my friend, you know 
not fully how I have lifted up my puny arm in rebel- 
lion against God ; so that I cannot think myself a 
whit behind the chief of sinners. Young as I am, 
I am a great sinner; but blessed be God who has, 
I hope, given us both a good hope through grace : 
to him be all the glory, 

" I shall, I expect, be in town a day sooner than 
was intended, viz. Wednesday the 8th ; my father 

will not come till the next day. Mr. F , in 

his letter, mentions a desire that I would give them 
a lecture (in the old way) at his house in the evening, 
I am very willing to do it, and I hope we shall hav§ 
your company." 



His next letter is from Harwich, and contains a 
pleasing disclosure of the state of his mind on the 
accomplishment, so far, of his ardent wishes. 



4S LIFE OF SPENCER. 

Letter VII. 

TO Mil. HEWARD. 



" Harwich, February 6, 1806. 

04 My dearest Friend, 

" I with pleasure embrace the op- 
portunity which now offers itself of writing yon a few 
lines for the first time since I have been here. While 
I hope you enjoy your health, I can say I never was 
better in my life than I have been since I have been 
at Harwich. The air is very cold and healthy : I 
am sure I have felt the difference. In the town 
there are many inhabitants, and a Methodist place, 
besides Mr. Hordles: by Methodists I mean Wes- 
ley's people. Mr. Hordle preaches three times on 
a Sabbath day, and is very well attended, and on 
Wednesday evenings ; prayer meeting on Monday 
night. I doubt not but you will join with me in 
returning thanks to the all-wise disposer of events 
for placing me in that comfortable situation which I 
now fill. I live with Mr, H, entirely ; his study is 
where I pursue my learning, and in an afternoon I 
meet his boys (there are only nine) at his vestry, to 
say a lesson or two with them. I learn Latin, Geo- 
graphy, and have got a considerable way in Dodd- 
ridge's Lectures on Pneumatology, in which now 
and then I meet with a philosophical subject ; in- 
deed, my dear friend, I really am very comfortable. 
Oh that my improvement may keep pace with the 
advantages I enjoy! 

" But, my dearest friend, what a separation be- 
tween us ! I often think of you when in this study 
pursuing my learning : think, did I say V I cannot 
help thinking of you, and I will cherish every ten- 
der thought of a friend I so much love. Oft-times 
I think that of an evening, when we are surround- 



<»af. m. LIFE OF SPENCER. 43 

ing the family altar, you are engaged in the busy 
concerns of life — whilst I am enjoying- the advan- 
tages of a kind teacher, a- good library, and various 
other blessing-Sj-you are behind the counter of a glove 
shop. Yet do not despair. I hope we shall some 
future day enjoy one another's company, and these 
advantages connected with it. W nen I walk out, 
as I in general do every day for exercise, 1 imagine 
you to be here — I converse with you — I see you — 
and fancy many other enjoyments, which perhaps 
will not come so soon. When I last saw you, I 
was exceedingly vexed that we could not have half 
an hour together in private; but however, I know 
you regard me still — and am sure I love you much ; 
and it is some pleasure to think that we can yet pray 
for one another. O do not forget me, unworthy as 
1 am, in your approaches to the throne of grace. 
Pray that I may not abuse my privileges; but that 
whilst I am here it may be manifest that I am pos- 
sessed of a principle of divine grace in my heart. 
But I hope I need not mention this to you, for you 
do, I trust, still remember me in your best moments, 
I have not forgot the pleasure I experienced the 
last time I saw you in London, nor the affectionate 
manner in which you conversed with me from Mr, 

F 's to my cousin's the last evening. 

" I had a very tedious journey here, as I could not 
sleep all night in the coach, But I think I am well 
repaid, I did not imagine that I should be treated 
with such care ; I have a nice little bed to 1113 self ; 
and, in short, am surrounded with blessings. I take 
some pleasure in contrasting my present situation 
with what it was when at Mr, Thodey's ; but after 
I have considered the peculiar advantages of this to 
that, I find that there was one pleasure I enjoyed 
there which I do not here — that of your company 
and conversation ; and thus is life made up of hopes 
and fears, pleasures and pains. May we be among 



44 LIFE OF SPENCER. tart i. 

those who are * strangers and sojourners' here, 
who seek a better country. 

" The evening I generally employ in promiscuous 
reading, as the time is then as it were my own. As 
I come home from the vestry about an hour before 
the other boys, from that time till tea I am engaged 
in secret meditation, reading God's word, and 
prayer to him. Ah ! Thomas, you arc then more 
on my mind than during the other parts of the day, 
for I cannot but remember how often you have 
pressed on me the duty of private prayer ; and in- 
deed, my friend, you are then most remembered by 
me in the best sense. I do continue to pray for 
you ; and I hope God will hear our petitions for 
one another, and £5nd us answers of peace. I beg 
of you, I entreat you to be earnest in supplication 
for me, that if God has appointed me for the work 
of the ministry, I may be fitted for it, and have a 
divine blessing attending me in all I undertake. 

" Mr. H. bids me write now and then the heads 
of a sermon of my own, and shew it him. I have 
yet only done one : it met his approbation. 

•'Be so kind as remember me to Mr. F , 

&c. &c. — I suppose you like your business as little 
as ever; but I hope you will soon be put in a situ- 
ation where you will enjoy yourself more — I mean 
in the best enjoyments. I still hope that we, formed 
for each other's comfort, shall yet be made blessings 
to each other, and that in a particular way. Then 
let the conceited, covetous worldling say, ' Friend- 
ship is but a name' — we know it is something more 
— itis a great blessing ; and where the friends have 
grace in their hearts, it is so, eminently and espe- 
cially. David and Jonathan found it so. I often 
think of your noticing particularly that expression, 
' their souls were knit together.' Dr. Young 
thought so when he said, ' poor is the friendless 
master of a world.' I am thankful that I have had 



chap. in. LIFE OP SPENCER. 45 

such a friend cast in my way that will be, I trust, a 
blessing to me all through life, and that will dwell 
with me in a better world. May the hope of that 
happiness stimulate us to more resignation to the 
divine will, and holy disdain of the vanities of time 
and sense. 

" And now, my dear friend, my letter draws to a 
close ; I can scarcely forbear tears while I write it.. 
I hope you will overlook its very visible imperfec- 
tions, and remember that it comes from one that 
loves you. Need I again beseech you to pray for 
me, that I may find mercy of the Lord, be blessed 
with every blessing here below, and crowned with 
glory hereafter. 

u Write me what religious intelligence you know 
I am ignorant of: I see the Magazine here, and 

other periodical works. And now I desire to 

commit myself, my dear friend, and all our concerns, 
into the hands of a covenant God ; and wishing you 
every blessing, I rest your ever faithful and affec- 
tionate friend, 

." THOMAS SPENCER." 



Letter VIII. 
TO MR. HEWARD. 



" Harwich, February 24, 1806. 

" My dearest Friend, 

" More than a fortnight ago, accord- 
ing to agreement, I wrote to you; as [ have not heard 
from you since that time, my mind is full of anxiety 
on that account, as I know not what to assign as a 
reason for it. I hope you received it, for I should 
never like our correspondence to be investigated by 
any body but ourselves. I hardly know how to write 
this letter; whether I should inform you of circum- 



46 LIFE OP SFENCER. part;. 

stances I mentioned in my last, (beingin doubt whether 
you received it) or, taking for granted that you have 
had it, shall I tenderly chide you for not answering 
it. I cannot think you have either forgotten me or 
are grown careless about me, and yet what can I say? 
I am full of conjectures. Have you been so busy as 
not to have time to write ; or have you written, put it 
in the post, and the letter miscarried? I hope you 
will write to me, and inform me which of these is the 
real case. — Need I tell you again that I am peculiarly 
comfortable in my situation, having nothing to render 
me otherwise but the absence of my friend, and my 
not having heard from him : nor from home either ; 
for I wrote to my father, and I have not yet received 
an answer, which I expected immediately ; indeed I 
cannot at all account for these things.. 

" I am very fond of Mr. H.'s preaching: we had 
three very fine sermons yesterday, on Exodus, chap, 
xxxiii. ver. 16; I. Corinthians, chap. iv. ver. 5; Ephe- 
sians, chap. ii. ver. 8. I have just begun to enter 
the heads of the sermons in a book. I am sure he 
is like a father to me; I am indeed very well treated. 
1 hope you are earnest in prayer, that God would 
let you know his will concerning you. O, my friend, 
I should think myself very happy if I coukl do any 
thing for you. Although I do not speak to you 
now, nor see jou, nor hear from you, yet I do feel 
pleasure in praying for you. I never was better in 
my life than since I have been at Harwich. A day 
or two ago I began to learn Hebrew. I often think 
you would be in your element in this study, with the 
advantages of learning, &c. I begin now to have 
a little idea of Geography; know more Latin than 
before, and study every day Locke's Conduct of the 
Understanding, and Doddridge's Lectures ; besides 
a deal of cursory reading, &e. ; for here is a very 
nice library, to which I have free access. I told 
you in my last to let me have Mr. E 's ad- 



chap. in. LIFE OP SPENCER. 47 

dress. Hope you will remember me to all our 

friends. Give my respects to Mr. J. F and 

T. E . As I do not remember any thing* else 

that I have to say, I conclude with subscribing my- 
self, yours, by all the tender ties of friendship, 

" THOMAS SPENCER." 



Letter IX. 
To MR. HEWARD. 



" Harwich, April 4, 1806. 

" My dearest Friend, 

" I received, with the greatest plea- 
sure, your letter of the 29th of February, together 
with my father's ; and, as I was sorry you did not 
write to me before, so was I equally grieved at the 
cause: I sympathize with you in your afflictions, 
and hope that you are now quite recovered — and 
the rest of the family. I believe you when you say 
it affords you so much pleasure to hear of my wel- 
fare. Oh ! Thomas, pray for me that my very com- 
forts do not become snares. I should like to have 
had more of the heads, texts, &c. of the sermons 
you have heard in London ; and hope that you find 

the ministry of Mr. K — and those you hear at 

'Hoxton beneficial to your soul ; for it is my earnest 
desire that, under the influences of the sacred Spi- 
rit, your soul maybe like a well- watered garden. I 
(of course) hear Mr. Hordle three times on the Sab- 
bath day, and I think I can say it has been to my 
profit : his sermons are indeed very judicious, expe- 
rimental, and practical, and I find it to be just the 
preaching I want. I keep a book in which I put 
down the heads of most of his sermons, which, when 
it is full, I intend, (if you would like) that you shall 
see. I suppose of an evening- we have not less than 



48 LIFE OF SPENCER. parti. 

four hundred and fifty people; in the day time not 
quite so many. There is a band of singers in the 
table pew, generally a bass viol is played, and Mr. 
IT. preaches in a gown, and I think the people are 
more attentive than any I ever saw. Once in a 
fortnight Mr. H. preaches at the Work-house ; I 
have been twice, and I like it very much. In the 
week day I go to the Methodist chapel, and some- 
times hear a good sermon there. I find by the Ma- 
gazine that Mr. S is at Spa-fields chapel. 

I have spoken often about him to you, and have 
mentioned him in my letters (though by the bye I 
spelt his name wrong). He is a Cheshunt student — 
has preached very frequently at Hertford chapel. I 
would advise you, if convenient, to go and hear him, 
for he is a very bold and very faithful preacher. If 
you do, give me a little account of the sermon, &c. 

If I were you, I would try to hear Mr. B 's 

missionary sermon. 

" I am very glad that you informed me of Mr. 
F.'s and W.'s conversation. I liked it all very 
well, except that about my preaching, and indeed I 
had much rather that Mr. F. had not mentioned that 
for various reasons. If you have heard anymore, 
pray tell it me. 

' He must not be put too forward. 1 

" But you have raised my curiosity very much 
about the certain minister, who has, unsolicitedly, 
offered you his recommendation for Hoxton. But 
why this reservedness? I shall expect a friendly, 
satisfactory reason for your not telling me his name, 
&c. Do you think that I would abuse- your confi- 
dence ? I hope not, — I think I should know better. 
As the month is expired, you must tell in your next 
more about it, as whether you have seen this certain 
minister? "What he said to you, &c. &c? I hope 
I have obeyed your request, and prayed for you; 
may God grant us both more of a praying spirit, and 



chap in LIFE OP SPENCER. 49 

may he answer our petitions, one for another. I 
thank you for Mr. E.'s address. I have not yet 
wrote to him — must — though Thomas, I think now 
I should be completely unhappy, were I again to 
have any thing to do with business; and I feel for 
you, as you say your time is wholly taken up in it 
everyday from six in the ■■ morning to eleven at night. 
I hope that while your aversion to the cares of the 
world increases, your spiritual affections are more 
animated, and your whole soul, from day to day, 
transformed more into the likeness of our lovely 
Jesus. 

1 The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man 
availeth much.' — You seem peculiarly pleased with 
this passage, observe therefore, 
1st. — Thait it is the righteous God regards; — those 
who are redeemed by the Son's blood; — loved 
by the Father's grace; — sanctified by the Spi- 
rit's influence.— Those who are weaned from 
the vanities of earth and time, — whose affec- 
tions are set on things above; — in a word, who 
are born of God, and bound for heaven. 
2d. — That they must pray.— -Prayer is the breath of 
the new-born soul, a believer cannot live with- 
out it, for 

4 Prayer makes the darken'd cloud withdraw i 

1 Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw ; 

' Gives exercise to faith and love, 

* And brings down blessings from above.' 

Newtom. 

3d. — They must pray fervently. * Cold prayers/ 
saith one, '* do but beg a denial.' In vain we 
offer up lifeless devotion to a heart- searching 
and-rein-to^ing God. 

4th. — These prayers are effectual, and avail much ; 
they avail much in the sanctifying of our souls, 
and 'forming Christ there. 
" Pardon this digression, as these thoughts ha-¥© 

just sprung from my own mind. 

D 



50 LIFE OP SFEKCEfc. *ti*f*< 

" I hope you continue to enjoy your Sabbaths 
more than ever. How delightful it is ! to dwell m 
the house of the Lord all the d?.ys of our life, to be- 
hold the beauty of the Lord, and enquire in his tem- 
ple.'— That was Mr. H.'s text last Sabbath day 
morning and afternoon. In the morning- he applied 
it to the church here below ; showed what was meant 
by beholding the beauty of the Lord, and enquiring 
in his temple, and how desirable it was f &c. In the 
afternoon, he applied all (with the greatest propri- 
ety) to heaven. Two very excellent sermons. 

" I cannot yet give up the thought that we shall 
soon live together again ; if we are to be so fa- 
voured, how^ thankful should I be: if not, we must 
learn to know no will but God's, and acknowledge 
that the Judge of all the earth will do right. As 
yet let us not despair, but commit all our concerns 
into the hands of our covenant God, and heavenly 
Father. We know he will do all things well. My 
situation is as comfortable, or more so, than ever; 
and I am considered like one of the family. We 
have a nice house, and here are only Mr. H., Mrs. 
H.,the little child about eight months old — a sweet 
babe he is,— the servant, and myself. I read Virgil 
in Latin now, and what I do learn of any thing 
serves to shew me more of my ignorance. May 
the Lord keep me humble. I have theological 
questions to study* such as, 

' Wherein appears the possibility of a divine 
revelation I 

" W hy is it desirable* &c? 

" I may consult books upon the subject, and here 
is a very good library. You will not forget your 
promise to write in your next about grace thriving 
in your heart. As for me, it is with tardy steps I 
creep, sometimes joying, and sometimes sorrowing. 
And yet without boasting, I think I can say I have 
known more of heart religion since I have been 



cn-AP.in. life OF SPENCER. 51 

here than before ; but it is very little altogether. I 
have experienced many happy moments in secret, 
such times as remind me of our last Sabbath after- 
noon together. But O ! what a deal of pride, re- 
bellion, carelessness, and all kinds of wickedness is 
there in my heart; I tremble to think ^of what I 
-deserve for my former levity, &c. — But O pray for 
me that I may find grace in the eyes of the Lord, 
and live to some purpose in the world. I am afraid 
that there are yet improper motives in my desiring 
the work of the ministry. Since 1 have been here 
I have seen some little of its nature, &c. I am sen- 
sible that no learning, or human qualifications, are 
enough to fit me for that all-important work; and I 
hope, that God will pour down showers of grace on 
me, instead of what I deserve, '< vials of wrath.' 
When you give me a little account of your " growth 
in grace," and how the lamp of religion keeps alive, 
I hope you will retrace some of the paths in which 
the Lord your God has led you, and tell me some- 
thing of your former experience, present enjoyments, 
and future hope. If you wish to go on from one 
degree of grace unto another, which I do not doubt, 
commune much with your own heart, read the bible 
as much as possible, and above all things, pray 
J'ervently.—\ am perfectly well in health, as I hope 
you are. Wishing you every spiritual blessing, I 
remain your affectionate and faithful friend, 

" THOMAS SPENCER." 



Letter X. 
TO MR. HEWARD. 



"Harwich, May 9, 1806. 

4i My dear Friend, 

" I received your two last letters 
-with great pleasure. It is highly gratifying to m# 



53 LIFE OF SPENCER. »**" i. 

to discover a great, and I believe a growing- attach- 
ment in you towards your friend, notwithstanding 
he is so far from you. In your letter of the 7th 
April you say you%ather expected a gentle reproof 
from me for your not writing to me ; if so, what 
ought I to expect from you I But knowing the 
kindness of your heart, I forbear any more upou 
that subject. I was glad to hear of your comfort- 
able interview with your friends at Coggeshall, and 
like your method well of consulting with your father 
on these occasions. Let us always manifest an 
obedient and dutiful regard to the advice of our 
parents ; they, you know, are older than we, and 
more experienced: and the light of nature, as well 
as that of divine revelation, enjoins us to love, reve- 
rence, and obey them. I should not have expected 

that would have acted so generously and 

friendly as it appears he has done. I think from 
these circumstances there appears (something like) 
the kind hand of Providence, and I hope it will 
appear so to your satisfaction by and bye. I wait 
with anxiety the result of your intended interview 

with the Rev. , of Chelmsford, and I need riot 

tell you to make it a matter of prayer ; you know full 
well the importance, necessity, and power, of the 
prayer of faith. Your cousin Ford should remem- 
ber that if the turnpike road is got too bad for peo- 
ple to walk comfortably in, the Ji elds are more plea- 
sant, as well as much nearer. How different are 
the views of good people, even in the most trifling 
things. When we get to heaven, there will be an 
end of all differences in sentiment and disposition. 
But I would not have you imagine that I (now) pre- 
fer Hoxton only on the account of its pleasantness, 
and the orthodox views of its supporters; but I 
would wish myself, and would have you follow, the 
leadings of Providence in this, as well as every other 
respect : if it appear the divine will for you to go to 



chap. m. LIFE OF SPENCER. 53 

Homerton, by all means go ; but if not, you of 
course will not. However, you may be sure of on© 
thing-, and that is, that your friend will love you 
none the less for your preference of Homerton. But 
I do think that Hoxton will be the place for yow. 
In your letter you have the remarkable words, * I 
do not remember that I promised an account of my 
own experience as to growth in grace.' Now per- 
haps you did not mean so in the letter referred to, 
but I understood it so. Your words were, * I had 
a great deal to write of, I mean the best things, as, 
How grace thrives in the heart, &c. which I hope 
to question and write of in my next/ Now here by 
the word question I of course thought you meant 
me, by writing of it, some account of yourself. But 
it appears it was not so ; and now I confess if it 
was not so designed, I do not know your meaning. 
I have been particular iu stating this, in order to 
prevent mistakes, I hope with you, that in your 
present situation you are learning lessons that will 
be beneficial to you all through life. I hope 
you will see more and more of the vanity of the 
pursuits of time and sense, and be more and more 
separated from a world lying in wickedness, as that 
is a good evidence of having found grace in the 
sight of the Lord. I perceive by your expressions 
that you are fired with zeal. I hope it is according 
to knowledge, and that you are not venturing upon 
what you may repent of in some future day. To 
say my own thoughts, I do not think you are influ- 
enced by any wrong motives. I am pleased with 
your self-dedication to God ; and I heartily wish 
that he may hear all your prayers, bless you with an 
increase of grace and gifts, if he think fit ; but he 
that has the most grace makes the best minister, and 
will rise to glory, honour, and immortality, at. last, 
and shall shine as the stars in the firmament, and be 
for ever blest; whilst the ungodly minister (O awful 



54 LIFE OF SPENCER. WK * »• 

thought !) shall have his portion with hypocrites and 
unbelievers, shall be banished from the presence of 
the Lord, and be cast into outer darkness, the 
smoke of his torments ascending up for ever and 
ever. I wish you could see Brown's Address to 
his Students in Divinity, which is prefixed to his 
View of Beligion (an excellent body of divinity.) 
"You would there see something of the import of 
being a minister of the Gospel. Oh! my friend, it 
made me exclaim, * who is sufficient for these 
things !' 

" There is certainly a great pleasure in receiving 
letters, and writing to each other; you and I expe- 
rience this, don't we? Indeed you dwell much on 
my mind. I think if we were to see each other 
again, and have a little good conversation, it would 
be like • cold water to a thirsty soul;' it would re- 
fresh as, and call into more lively exercise our warm 
sensations of affection. What a blessing it is, I 
often think, that we ever met together. I am very 
glad that I ever lived at Mr. Thodey's; I there met 
with a worthy friend when I had none, learned a few 
lessons I was ignorant ofj and was introduced (in 
some measure by being there) to Mr. Wilson. Now 
it is true we are far from each other, but what then I 
Yen are pleased, I know, at my little improvement 
in knowledge ; and you, I hope, are about entering- 
upon the ministerial office ; and when I think of that 
I also am highly pleased. A few weeks more, and 
something will be done for you. I have often told 
you, both in conversation and correspondence, not 
to be discouraged at a view of your own insuffi- 
ciency; and you know, God has chosen the foolish 
things to confound the wise, and he works by means 
that prove his sovereign hand. But I must hint 
that your low views of yourself will do you no harm, 
Go on to despise the world and all the enchanting 
allurements it holds out; and be vigilant, for the 



chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 55 

adversary of whom you speak is never idle. How 
does he tempt us to think lightly of religion — to 
foolish and unedifijing conversation — to offer up 
shorty cold, and careless prayers, and I know not 
what beside. Fray, then, that while Satan is at- 
tempting to damp, nay quench, the rising flame, the 
Hoi) Spirit may pour in plentifully the oil of grace, 
and cause it to rise to all eternity. — You, I hope, 
do not intend to Hatter me (for friends should never 
Matter, and I hate it) when you say, you think I am 
fitting for some active elevated sphere in the cause 
of Christ. Ah! Thomas, you do not see how un- 
worthy I am to be a door-keeper in the house of my 
God, as I do, much less fill some elevated station. 
And indeed did I possess the wisdom of Solomon, 
the learning of Paul, and the eloquence of Apollos, 
without their piety, what am 1 1 — * Like sounding 
brass, or a tinkling cymbal.' I feel my need of 
divine grace, without which I am less than nothing, 
and can do nothing. What a dreadful thing must 
it be to have our parents, teachers, seminaries, gifts, 
examples, our bibles, books, instructions, vows and 
resolutions, prayers and sermons, all rise up in 
judgment against its! The thoughts of it are 
enough to make our blood run cold. May the glo- 
rious and gracious God forbid such a doom for Jesus 
Christ's sake. To this I know you will say * Amen.' 
On the other hand, how glorious must be the lot of 
the' faithful sent minister of the Gospel : methinks I 
see him rising (at the judgment day) from the long 
sleep of death, with a smile of holy pleasure on his 
sacred countenance, and heavenly glory in his soul. 
I see him approach the tribunal of his reconciled 
Judge, and having the pardon of all his sins made 
manifest before an assembled world, with a goodly 
number of seals to his ministry, he exclaims in the 
language of holy gratitude, peace, and triumph, 
i Here am I, Father, and the children thou hast 



56 LIFE OF spencer; mtmtm 

given me!' O may such blessedness be yours and 
mine : this- will ten thousand times more than com- 
pensate for the troubles and trials met with in the 
ministry. Amen, saith your longing soul; 

"Saturday,, May 10. — With respect to the work 
of grace on my own heart, I feel shy to say much 
about it, fearing lest after all my profession I 
should become a cast-away, and the root of the 
matter not be in me. I feel such a lifeless frame of 
mind, such coldness in prayer, in short, . I indeed 
think, that I have more evidences of reigning sin 
than of the life of religion. I wish to ■ read my title 
clear to mansions in the skies/ I wish to be more 
Christ-like, more heavenly and spiritual ; but I can 
only say with David, ' My soul lies cleaving to the 
dust, quicken thou me according to thy word/ I' 
would fain believe ; my God help and subdue my 
unbelief. I dare not say any thing, but hope and 
trust at present, ^ nay hardly that, i©r I 4 oftea feel 
such a gloom upon my mind that you cannot con- 
ceive of. I think it is wrong to give way to it, and 
1 fear: if I did I should become quite melancholy. 
One reason is, that I want my friend, and feel his 
loss. If you were here, how could we relax our 
minds from study by a pleasant walk and agreeable- 
conversation. When I walk out (if Mr. Hordle is 
not with me) there is no person whose company I 
much value. Sometimes one of the boys that Mr.. 
Hordle teaches is with me ; but I believe he had 
rather be at play than conversing about any thing 
that would do him good ; and really I have walked 
so much alone lately that it gets quite insipid.. 
When I first canje, I enjoyed my solitary walks 
much better than I do now — what is the reason ? I 
cannot tell : it is, however, one great comfort that 
I am so well provided for. Mr. and Mrs. H. had 
an only child, but eight months old, I think the 
most beautiful and lovely boy I ever saw : his smiles . 



chap. itr. L | FB OF sPfiNCEft; 37 

had often filled our hearts with joy, and the openings 
of his infant mind were delightful as the blossoms in 
spring. Though so young, he j knew very well I 
loved him, and I know he was very fond of me — so 
pleased on my return after I have been out, and so 
very sensible for a child of his age. When I wrote 
you last he lay very ill, and I believe died the day 
after* His death grieved me very much, and I 
could not study for some time ; but it is a comfort 
to reflect 'that he is now present with the Lord, and 
for ever blest. But what a trial to lose him! I 
felt much for his parents, who doated on him; and 
I confess I never loved a child as I did him. — I 
think if we were to live together again, how happy 
we should be: I mean where we could pursue our 
studies together. If you are at Hoxton when I 
am, I hope we shall be in the same class. I should 
like you to go in just before me, or when I do, that 
so I might not be quite a stranger in the house, and 
have no one there that I know, for that would be 
very uncomfortable. You and I used to interest 
ourselves very much in the case of the highwayman 
that broke out of Hertford jail, and passed for a 
serious man. My father informed me that he has 
been taken in his old courses, and hung a little 
while ago at Lancaster, an awful instance of hypo- 
crisy and deceit. I read in a newspaper, that he 
gave a paper there to the church minister, in which 
he said, that he had broke open fifty houses, stole 
thirty horses, and committed more highway robberies 
than his memory could recollect. With respect to 
joining a church, I think it is your duty, as you 
therein give yourself up to God in solemn dedica- 
cation — make a more open profession of his Gospel, 
and declare yourself on the Lord's side. Join that 
church, (be which it will) where you enjoy much 
under the ministry, where you have often received 
d2 



OS LIFE OF SPENCER. PA " * 

spiritual nourishment for your immortal soul. I 
think you will do wrong if you do not join God's 
people in that manner, for it is an incumbent duty. 
Your going- to Hoxton would not make any dif- 
ference, for the students there sit down at the dif- 
ferent places in London — some at Hoxton chapel 
— some at Mr. Brooksbank's — some at Mr. Clay- 
ton's, and in short, wherever they have been mem- 
bers before, or where the minister admits them as 
occasional communicants, For myself, I cannot 
yet think of doing it. I am glad you are reading 
Halvburton's life, and hope you will find it pro- 
fitable. 

" Questions lately studied. — * What perfections 
dwell in God, and how do you prove them to be in 
him, without referring to tbe scriptures !' 

" * How do you prove that the scriptures are the 
word of God ?'• 

" ■ How do we know that the scriptures have 
been faithfully conveyed to us, and not corrupted V 

" I have not heard any thing of Samuel for these 
two letters; hope he is well. Make my best re- 
spects to him. And now, commending you to our 
glorious Saviour, and hoping that one day it will 
appear more particularly, that we were designed 
for great blessings to each other, I remain, 

" Your affectionate and faithful friend, 

« THOMAS SPENCER," 



Letter XL 
TO MR. HEWARD. 



" Harwich, June 14, 1806. 

" My dearest Friend, 

" I received your parcel the morning 
after you sent it, and read your letter with the 



chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 59 

greatest pleasure. You judge rightly when you 
say, you suppose that I was anxiously waiting to 
hear from you. The providential dealings of God 
with you have (I hope) tilled me with wonder and 
praise. Surely both of us have great reason to say, 
f Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within 
me bless his holy name.' Let us not forget any of 
his benefits, but for these displays of his goodness, 
dedicate our bodies and souls to his glory, which is 
only our reasonable service. Let us both rejoice, 
that. God has put this treasure in earthen vessels, 
that the excellency of the power may be of God, 
and not of mam Little did you expect a few years 
agOj that you should be providentially called into 
the work of the ministry ; but now you can rejoice, 
that unto you, who, in your' awn view., are less than 
the least of all the saints, is this grace given, that 
you might preach among poor sinners the unsearch- 
able riches of Christ. Observe now the dealings of 
Providence in this circumstance. You are in a 
waiting frame, and when so, God appears to grant 
you the desire of your heart. He hath now made 
your path clear before you, and as to its being the 
call of God, I have not the least doubt ; but how- 
,ever, I hope you will recollect, that though your 
way has been thus shewn to you, it may not always 
be so ; difficulties, great and many, may await us 
both in our journey through life; but pod lias sajd, 
when thou passest through the waters, I wijl be 
with thee, and will prevent the floods from over- 
ilowing thee. Having 1 such promises as these, my 
dear friend, let us press forward, and with holy 
resignation say, * Where he appoints I'll go and 
dwell.' Tis true, we know not what a day may 
bring forth,; but this we know, that God will never 
forsake those who, put their trusj; in him, but will 
be their sun to illumine them, their shield to defend 
them, and their God eternally to bless them. I do 



60 LIFE OF SPEWER. PART r - 

not at all wonder at your being perplexed in your 

mind about mentioning matters to . Had I 

been in your state, I should have dreaded it: but 
you did well in making it a matter of prayer before 
God, and God was very gracious in ordering it as 
he has done. . You know that prayer to God is the 
best way of making things sure — so you, I trust, 
have found it. I should :like to know, the other 
circumstances at which you hint, but I dare say 
they are too tedious to mention; perhaps we may 
see each other soon, when conversa tion, will settle it^ 
I am much pleased, nay delighted, with the conver- 
sation you had with Mr. W. He is, I doubt not, 
a warm friend to the cause of Christ, and does all 
he possibly can to forward it in the world. I am 
like him in regard to zealous and earnest preachers, 
and like to see animation and life in a pulpit; and 
where the preacher's mind is fettered with notes 
there can be none. You know I thought, when I 

lived with you, that and , were good sort 

of men ; they would not do any harm, .but wanted to 
see something of their growing usefulness. I don't 
doubt but I shall soon have a letter from you, dated 
Hoxton Academy, ,&c. ; and I wish .we may be 
there together, for it will be very awkward for you 
or meat first to go there, when there is nobody we 
know. I wish we might be in the "same class, &c. 
so thtft we might, be helpers to one another, and 
shew that we are the servants of the living God. I 
know that Mr. H. writes to Mr. W. about me. I 
know I am, as Mr. W. says, young and inexpe- 
rienced; but I want divine grace, &c. to strengthen 
me for every duty, and : prepare me for every trial. 
But, however, I don't think that Mr. T. knows any 
thing about the time when; I shall be admitted. 
Though I did not mention it in, my last, yet I do not 

think Mr. 's is a proper church for you to 

join as a student ; when considered as a Christian, . 



chap. in. life OF "SPENCER. 61 

merely, it would do very well ; but as now you are 
to consider yourself as about entering the work of 
the ministry, it alters the case. I never heard Mr. 

, therefore know nothing" of him, or his church; 

but Mr. B. I have heard more than once or twice ; 
and if I were to recommend any church that I know 
in London as proper for you to join, it should be 
his. I have often thought that I should like to sit 
under him myself. Concerning your religious ex- 
perience — doctrinal sentiments — and ministerial mo- 
tives* — I should rather think that your own plan, 
however simple, would be much better than any I 
can prescribe ; but as you know most of my tenets 
pretty well, I do not know that I shall now write a 
confession, but will here give you a few directions 
only, which, if you like, you can adopt, but if not, 
discard them totally. In your religious experience, 
I would observe the order of time, state when you 
first received serious impressions, how they were 
fastened on your mind, what effect they had on your 
conduct, &c. in your own way. In your doctrinal 
sentiments, begin with the object of worship — God. 
State your views of the persons in the Godhead: 
quote scripture to prove your ideas of the trinity. . 
Then about man, his creation, fall, ruin, recovery, 
and so on. Be particular in saying, there is no sal- 
vation but in Christ. Speak your opinion of the 
influences of the Spirit, the efficacy of divine grace 
in the conversion of sinners. The dealings of God 
with his people^ The doctrines of election, perse- 
verance, &c. Then that you think (if you do) that 
it is the duty of all men to believe the Gospel (I 
believe it.) That God will soon judge the world. . 
That sinners will be sent to hell, and saints taken 
to heaven and glory, &c. &c. I have read Mr, 

• Referring to that summary of his views on these points, which, 
as a candidate for admission into Hoxton Academy, his friend was .- 
about to present to the committee of that institution. 



<>2 LIFE OF SPENCEK, parti. 

H 's piece againstC.,and I b\ no means approve 

of it. He evidently has written on a subject for 
which he is by no means capable, for he does not at 
all understand the difference between natural and 
moral inability — on which my mind has lately been 
much employed, and about which Mr. Hordle and I 
have conversed. There have been two pieces about 
it in some of the last numbers of the Evangelical 
Magazine. Now, naturid or physical inability is 
such as a man feels who, we'll suppose, is quite 
blind, when another tells him to open his eyes. 
Now this is naturally impossible. Moral inability 
is such as a man feels if he is told, for instance, to 
come to Harwich. He says, I am very busy, and 
indeed I can't come : now we know he might come 
if he zcould. He has power to walk to the coach * 
&c, but his cannot is his zcill not. Now, which of 
these two is the inability of sinners to come to 
Christ? Pause here a moment, and think. I once 
was almost ready to suppose, it was like that of a 
blind man to open his eyes ; but if so, why does 
God command him to see? Why does he feel 
remorse that he has not clone so on his death-bed, 
or at other times? He knows he might have done 
otherwise if he would. The swearer may forbear 
to take God's name, if he will: can he not? If 
not, why will not God hold him guiltless ? Their 
defect is then not natural, but moral: that is, it is 
a defect in the will, which nothing- but grace can 
remedy. Now, then, I am well convinced with Mr. 
C, that the defect is not natural, but moral— what 
think yon I Perhaps you never thought much on 
the subject. I would advise you to read a little 

tract of Moseley's on the subject. N o w Mr. H: 

does not understand this distinction, but supposes, 
by saying it is not natural, we mean, that it is not 
-common to all, or universal : now we. know it is,, 
and that in this sense it is not natural; but had 



cnAr.ni. LIFE OF SPENCER. 63 

Mr. C. used the word physical, or explained his 
meaning a little, perhaps he would not have heen 

attacked by an Antinomian. 

" I am very glad you sent the Youths' Maga- 
zines : I like them very well. I am very sorry that 
you were not at prayer meeting in time ; but I 
attach not the least blame to you, because of your 
hard work on Saturday, and so late. I think tbere 
is generally something to embitter our comforts a 
little. I should also have rather heard that you 
were very happy in the time of prayer, than that 
you were very uncomfortable; but don't be cast 
down. Mr. W. encourages you ; your friends do 
the same ; and God appears to be on your side : 
and you know, if he is for you, none can prevail 
against you. I am confident, that as God sends 
you into the work of the ministry, he will give you 
abilities sufficient. — Trust, then, in him — pray to 
him — be humble — be resigned — and I do hope you 
will experience divine consolations, heavenly sup- 
port, and abilities sufficient. The preaching at the 
poor-house pleased me much; your text was very 
appropriate, and there is something in the nature of 
the Gospel which is peculiarly adapted to the poor. 
Now there does not seem any congruity between a 
fine chapel, very elegant and grand, with carriages 
at the door for the hearers, and the doctrines of the 
meek and lowly Jesus. This does not, I say, ap- 
pear fit; and the Gospel was originally preached to 
the poor. I am glad you was not embarrassed at 
all, and hope you will be the means of doing much 
good. Get your subject well into your mind for 
Mr. K.'s room ; think of how you shall arrange it, 
&c. as Mr. W. told you. Tell me in your next 
your plan, heads, &c, and whether you use notes 
or no. If you think you cannot do without short 
ones, use them; but do not slavishly attend to 
them. I think you had better work it well into 



64 LIFE OF SPENCER*'- parti. 

your mind first, and then deliver it extempore, or 
without notes. Don't be too delicate, or mind too 
much the smells of rooms r and so on ; but consider 
him who endured all kinds of hardships, lest you 
be weary, and faint in your mind. I find I must 
not expect to hear from you till after your exami- 
nation in July : well, let me have the more when 
you do send. About the logical definition, I shall 
say no more ; only that I think you are very much 
mistaken when you imagine that I increase so much 
in knowledge, for I really do not think I do so 
much as I ought; indeed these blundering letters 
are evidences of it, . so pray don't flatter. I did 
write a little in my last about my present experi- 
ence, I believe, because I thought it was what you 
wanted. You say it is not quite possible to recol- 
lect all one has written in a former letter : I say, I 
know it is quite impossible. You say you should 
like to see the answers to the questions which I 
sent you ; having room, I will transcribe some of 
them for you. 

"~ Question. — ''How do you prove the existence 
of a God, without referring to the scriptures, or 
from the light of nature V 

" Answer. — ■ (1st) All nations, Heathens, Jews, 
Mahometans, and Christians, harmoniously consent 
that there is a God, .who created, preserves, and 
governs the world.' 

" ' (2d) There is a great impression of Deity on 
the mind of every man; that is, an indistinct idea 
of his being, and a readiness to acquiesce in the 
truth of his existence.' 

" ' (3d) The works of creation demonstrate it ; 
their alterations and dependence prove them not to 
have been from eternity — they could not form them- 
selves — chance could not produce them — matter 
cannot change its own form, or produce life or. 
reason.; therefore there must be a God.- 



<*hap in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 65 

" ' (4th) It is agreed from the support and go- 
vernment of the world : — the heavenly bodies — sea- 
sons — weather — vegetables — sagacity and instinct 
of animals — herbs, &c.' 

" '(5th) From the punishments which have been 
inflicted* on nations and persons for r their excessive 
immoralities.' 

* ' (6th) From the terror and dread which 
wound men's consciences when guilty of crimes 
which other men do not know, or are not able to 
punish or restrain, as in the case of Nero, Domi- 
tian, and others, and that, too, when they laboured 
to persuade themselves and others that there was 
no God, &c. — See Brown, Doddridge's Lectures, 
Ridgley, Buck's Dictionary, fyc. 

" Question. — ' How do. you; prove that the scrip- 
tures have been faithfully conveyed to us V 

" Answer.—' In translations those books retain 
manifest marks of their Eastern original.' 

" Notwithstanding all thatChrist and his apostles 
inveighed against the wickedness of the Jews, they 
never charged them with corrupting a single text 
in the bible. The various sects among the Jews, 
viz. Pharisees, . Sadducees, &c. have rendered it 
impossible that they could corrupt them, as well as 
the animosities which have ever since prevailed 
between the Jews and Christians, so that neither of 
them could : vitiate these sacred oracles, . without 
being shamefully detected.: Had the Jewsattempted 
to corrupt these sacred books, it worfd certainly 
have been in those passages in which the tearful 
wickedness of their nation is described, and Jesus 
Christ magnified and honoured; but in none o£ 
them do we find the least mark of concealment or 
corruption. That they should be corrupted among 
Christians, is equally incredible : such was the mul- 
titude of copies, hearers, readers, and even sects, 
among them, that it is impossible they should ever 



1)0 LIFE OF SPENCER. part i. 

have succeeded. Through the errors of transcribers, 
Svc. the comparer of a multitude of copies cannot 
fail to find a number of translations.' — See Browns 
Vieze of Religion. 

'- Question. — « What proofs have you that man 
was at first created righteous and holy V 

" Answer. — * (1st) Universal tradition, — for all 
nations have supposed mankind to have once been 
in a holy and happy state.' 

" ' (2d) The nature of things, — for it seems very 
improbable that so holy and so good a God should 
have formed mankind, in the original constitution 
of their nature, in so corrupt and sinful a state/ 

" ? (3d) The natural resemblance men have to 
Ood in the spirituality, intelligence, and immortality 
of their souls. — Genesis, chap. ix. ver. 6.; Janies^ 
chap. iii. ver. 9.' 

" * (4th) The express declarations of scripture ? 
- — Ecclesiastes, chap. vii. ver. 29. ; Genesis, chap. 
i. ver. 26 and 27. ; Colossians, chap. iii. ver. 10. ; 
Ephesians, chap. iv. ver. 24.' 

" These will bow serve you for further meditat- 
ing on, as well as the subject of natural and moral 
inability ; your opinion of which I shall expect in 
your next letter. If you can, I would advise you 
to getMoseley's piece, or read attentively the pieces 
in the Magazine; one of them is a letter from Dr. 
Watts,— I told Mr. Hordle about your .present 
prospects ; I did not see any occasion to secret it, 
as Mr. W. knows it, and so many others : he is 
pleased on the account of it. I have spoken to Mr. 
H. about Brown's View of Religion, and he says 
it is quite at your service : I shall enclose it, and 
hope you will read it attentively through—be sure 
you read the Address to Students, at the beginning; 
when you have done with it, (he will not mind your 
keeping it a month or more) send it by coach. In 
it you wiij find a whole body of divinity in a very 



chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 67 

little compass. The part on the light and law of 
nature is very excellent. He was a most eminent 
man, and mighty in the scriptures : may you and I 
be like him. I am glad to hear the good news you 
give me of your brother ; I hope it will appear to 
be the work of grace upon his soul, and that he 
may really be converted. I like your plan of having 
a prayer meeting much — may you all experience 
the blessings you pray for. 

" As to drawing landscapes and plans, you know 
1 never was any hand at it, nor do I think of doing 
any thing in it ; if I do, you shall have it. Perhaps 
I may give Samuel a note. Wishing you every 
spiritual and temporal blessing, I remain your affec- 
tionate, though uirworthv, friend, 

"THOMAS SPENCER." 



Letter XII. 
TO MR. HEWARD. 



" Septemler 4, 1806. 

** My dearest Friend, 

" How wonderfully has Providence 
appeared for you and for me. This time twelve- 
month beheld us both buried in a glove-shop — 
buried, did I say — I recall the word, for we then 
enjoyed what we do not now, mutual conversation, 
and each other's company. Let us hope that the 
time may come when we shall again enjoy that. I 
am very glad that you succeeded so well as you 
did in your sermon before the Committee ; take en- 
couragement from that circumstance to trust God 
for all your future discourses. The Sabbath day, 
August 17, though I found that 1 could not con- 
veniently omit any one of the services, yet I assure 
you I did not forget your request, I cannot say 



68 EIFE OF SPENCER. fart r. 

that I think it is right (especially in me) to omit 
public worship for private devotion. And if I had 
done it, my conduct would in all probability have 
been more inspected about it than I should wish. 
1 have not seen the rules of Hoxton Academy; I 
do not think Mr. H. has them; should like to see 
them much ; hope you will send them next time. I 
am fully persuaded of the propriety, nay duty, of 
your joining' yourself to a church, which now I hope 
you have done;- but for my own part, I must con- 
fess I have excuses for not doing it; and what 
clmrch could I join now? Perhaps you say, Mr. 
Hordle's. I answer, there is no church I should so 
like to be a member of as his ; but do you see a 
a propriety in my being a member here, when I do 
not expect to be here any longer than Christmas? 
There could not in my view have been a more suit- 
able pastor for you than Mr. B. I hope you will 
find his people as suitable as himself. I approve 
too of your attending the prayer meeting at his 
place of a morning, and hope you find that conve- 
nient. May you have precious opportunities in the 
chapel, at the Lord's table, and at the prayer meet- 
ing. Ycu praise my verses too much. Indeed 
they were only the hasty productions of a few mo- 
ments, and 1 have no cop}- of them, .for I. only wrote 
them on a slate, and then copied them on the letter. 
However, I am glad you receive them as a token 
of our regard and growing affection for each other.* 
L would advise you by all means to be very friendly 
with the young men, those with whom you can con- 
sistently be so : I mean the more pious, and those 
whom you feel most disposed to associate with. 
There are, no doubt, a variety of tempers, disposi- 
tions, and ways, in the academy ; and it is there, I 



• Those who may be anxious to see these verses inserted in the 
Memoirs, are referred to page 7 for the reasons of their omission. 



chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 69 

dare say, as in other places, some good and some 
bad. I do not wonder at your finding- study to be 
wearisome and laborious* Solomon found it so. — 
Ecelesiastes, chap, xii. ver. 12. Others find it so. 
I sometimes find it so, but I am persuaded it will 
not be always so with you ; and you should recol- 
lect that it so different from what you have lately 
been engaged in, that I should wonder if it did not 
appear strange to you. But I should like to know 
what you are studying that is so difficult; is it La- 
tin, Greek, English, Hebrew, or what? Now I do 
long to be there for the sake of your company as 
much as you wish me there. O, how charming it 
would be for us to ^tudy together. How cheer- 
fully would I give you every instruction in my 
power. How willingly would I forego my own 
studies for the sake of improving the mind of a dear 
friend ! — Such a time may come, and that's all 1 
know of it ; for, as to when it will be, I confess I 
know no more than you do. This only I know, that 
I shall leave Mr. Hordle at Christmas, and shall 
then see you, my father, mother, &c. who I know 
will be pleased to see me; but whether I shall come 
again to Mr. Hordle's or not, I believe nobody 
knows. I think that it is more likely that you 
should know before me, for Mr. Wilson and the 
committee have the management of it. I have one 
request to make to you which I hope you will grant, 
and that is that you write to my father at Hertford 
to tell him where you now are, &c. I know he will 
be very glad to hear of your welfare. Tell him that 
it was by my desire you write to him, &c. This 
request you must, must fulfil. I hope then my dear 
friend, you may be kept of God from following evil 
examples, (if such there be in a dissenting academy,) 
and that it may appear that you are designed to fill 
some important station in the church of Jesus. 
Would it be amiss if we were both to learn Dodd- 



70 LIFE OF SPENCER. * ART »• 

ridge's 82d hymn, entitled * Isaiah's Obedience to 
the Heavenly Vision V I know you will like the 
hymn much.* There is one thing I do noflike in 
Hoxtcn academy, that is, their not learning* Hebrew 
without the points; which are little dots or specks 
put under and about the letters. See on the com- 
mandments which are hung over the fire-place in 
the lecture room at the academy if there are not 
such. Now, about these points there is a great 
dispute between the punctists and those who are 



* ISAIAH'S OBEDIENCE to the HEAVENLY VISION. 

Isaiah vi. 8. 

OUR God ascends his lofty throne, 
Array "d in majesty unknown ; 
His lustre all the temple fills, 
And spreads o'er all the etherial hills. 

The holy, holy, holy Lord, 

By all the seraphim ador'd, 

And, while they stand beneath his seat, 

They veil their faces and their feet. 

And can a sinful worm endure 
The presence of a God so pure ? 
Or these polluted lips proclaim 
The honours of so grand a name ? 

O for thine altar's plowing coal 
To touch my lips ; to fill my soul ; 
To purge the sordid dross away, 
And into crystal turn my clay ! 

Then, if a messenger thou ask ; 
A lab'rer, for the hardest task ; 
Through all my weakness and my fear 
Love shall reply, " Thy servant 's here * 

Nor should my willing soul complain, 
Though all it's efforts seem'd in vain: 
The ample recompence shall be 
But to have wrought, nay XJod, for thee. 



chaMii. LIFE OF SPENCER. 71 

not for their use. The punctists (Mr. S. is a strong 
one) contend that they are of great use. Some say 
they are of divine authority. The great Mr. Ro- 
maine, and the late learned Mr, Park hurst, oppose 
this idea, and say that they are only little dots or 
specks added by ill-designing men to the letters. 
I feel inclined to believe them. Now, I dread 
almost the learning it with points, as it is extremely 
difficult; without them, it is simple and easy. Mr. 

H thinks they arc of use, but does not think 

them of equal authority to the letters; and scarcely 
ever reads with them. Now, he thought it best for 
me to learn it without points with him, and then at 
the academy I could learn with them, and so read 
both ways. I have compiled a lexicon myself, con- 
taining the roots of all the words in the language — 
that is, I have quite abridged Parkhurst's very va- 
luable one (and what no Hebrew student should be 
without) into a portable form for my own use. Now, 
I hope your mind will be eased, and your anxiety 
removed; and with the warmest affection, 
" I remain, 
" Your ever faithful friend, 

" THOMAS SPENCER." 



Letter XIII. 
To MR. HEWARD. 



" Harwich, Oct. 14, 1806. 

u My dearest Friend, 

" As it is now considerably more than 
a month since you Avrote me a note from Hoxton 
academy, and I answered it, I conclude that a letter 
from me will be what you now desire ; and yet I 
am not quite certain whether you should [not have 
written first ; but by way of compensation for my 



72 LIFE OF SPENCER. part i. 

too long silence before, I am willing to converse 
with yon on paper. And as Mr. Hordle is gone to 
"Ipswich to-day, to -an association of ministers, and 
rl have nothing particularly to be engaged in be- 
sides, I embrace the opportunity. You are now, 
I suppose, a little inured to study, and begin to find 
the difficulties of a student's life not so many as 
you apprehended they were. I long to know in 
what studies you are engaged, and how you like 
them. I have just begun the Greek language ; so of 
course do not know much about it, my time having 
been of late principally employed in the Hebrew, 
of which I am very fond, especially as I now read 
it ' unsophisticated by Rabbinical points.' I please 
myself with the idea of seeing and conversing with 
you in the course of about ten weeks ; but at that 
time there will be something else which I shall not 
so much admire. Do you ask me what it is I It 
is, my dear friend, nothing less than appearing 
before the committee of Hoxton academy. The 
thought of it makes me almost tremble. Yesterday 
morning Mr. Hordle told me that I must prepare 
the account of my experience, sentiments, and mo- 
tives for wishing the ministry, by November, to be 
then laid before the gentlemen of the committee. 
Tins you know must be done ; and when I go to 
London about Christmas, I must go through all that 
painful task, which, as it respects you, is all over. 
He told me, too, that he supposed there would be 
some demur about admitting me, merely on the 
account of my^youth; but he does not know that 
it will be so as to hinder my admittance: Mr. 
Wilson has, it appears, written to Mr. H. about 
it ; so, if the affair succeeds well, I shall be in 
the academy after Christmas with you. That one 
circumstance, your company and friendship, will 
.make amends for all my trouble of mind on the 
occasion. You may be sure I shall communicate 



chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 73 

every circumstance to you, and keep nothing back, 
that so by one occurrence and another, our mutual 
attachment and sincere friendship may be increased 
and strengthened. What a long separation we 
have experienced : may we be brought together 
again to strengthen each other's hands, and be both 
engaged in the best employment. You must inform 
me in your next, how long you think it will be before 
you begin to preach, and tell me all your places of 
preaching, texts, plans, &c. I hope you have writ- 
ten to my father, as I requested you would. I be- 
lieve they are going on as usual at Hertford. Mr. 
M. continues among them. May great grace rest 
upon them all. I do not doubt that I shall feel 
some degree of uneasiness when the time comes for 
my separation from my friends here at Harwich. I 
mean such as Mr. Hordle, &c. &c. But my satis- 
faction will be, that I shall see you who are still, and 
I hope ever will be, my dearest friend. We live in 
a world of changes. Life is indeed a chequered 
scene : and here we have rip continuing city. May 
we seek one to come. May it be our happiness to 
enjoy the favour of him who never changes, but is 
the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. When I 
consider my exceeding sinfulness and depravity, 
besides my inability, I feel almost disposed to wish, 
my views had never been directed towards the mi- 
nistry; but it does appear a call of Providence. 
How could I do any thing else than come here I 
And now, perhaps, a door may be opened even for 
my being a student a^ Hoxton ; but I shall go there 
under several disadvantages; for, being so young, 
I may expect a good deal of contempt from some 
self-sufficient and arrogant students, (if such there 
are) and you know they stay no longer than four 
years, and after that I shall be but twenty years old, 
and what can I then say to old experienced Chris- 
tians? I do indeed feel a deal of discouragement. 

E 



74 LIFE OF SPENCJE&. parti. 

" O may the Lord encourage me," &c. But I shall 
come under some advantages; for, as I am not alto- 
gether ignorant of many things taught at Hoxton 
academy, I shall find my studies easier than if I had 
to begin learning them, &■<;. I wish we could be in. 
one class. Another disadvantage which Mr. Hor- 
dle has told me of is this — The students generally 
spend their money which they are paid for preach- 
ing, in books,* &c. Now, I shall be too young to 
preach for at least these four years, consequently I 
can have no books, &c. till that time. This ap- 
pears a very great disadvantage. However, I would 
wish to leave all in the hands of God : he knows 
what is best for me; and if I am one of those who 
love God, and are the called according to his pur- 
pose, he will make all things work together for my 
good. I want that calm disposition which is careful 
for nothing, but in every thing, by prayer and sup- 
plication, makes known its requests unto God. I 
often reflect on the dealings of Providence with us 
when I first came to Mr. T.'s. You, I suppose, 
had not the least prospect of being a student at 
Hoxton. And I could not see how my coining 



* It may perhaps be considered as departing from the design of 
this volume, or descending too much to minute particulars — yet I 
eannot satisfy myself without directing the eyes of those gentlemen 
who may have the care of providing supplies for the pulpit in desti- 
tute churches, or in cases of the pastor's absence, to this important 
circumstance. But few of the students in our academies are over- 
burthened with money — yet money is absolutely necessary for the 
purchase of books, without which their studies must be considerably 
retarded. Deacons, and others whom it may concern, should bear 
this in mind, in the compliments which they may make them for their 
occasional services ; and remember, that there is no case in which 
they can with greater delicacy or propriety, display a generous regard 
to their wants in this respect, than when thus remunerating them 
for their acceptable labours. It is needless to express a disapproba- 
tion, which every candid mind must feel, of a conduct directly the 
reverse of this, which is perhaps too often practised, when the consi- 
deration is diminished for the very reason on account of which it ought 
..to be increased— it is but a student. 



CKAttiii. LIFE OP SrENCEA. 7o 

there to learn that business, could at all further my 
preparation for that sacred work. We there be- 
came friends. I was there just long enough to 
secure a worthy and affectionate friend, and to have 
the notice of Mr. Wilson. Now you, too, have left 
Mr. T. and are in the academy. I went, you know, 
home, not knowing- what the event would be. Pro- 
vidence has sent me here ; and O, " what am I, or 
my father's house, that he has brought me hitherto." 
We are now blind to futurity. We know not where 
we shall be placed in future life, whether far from, 
or near to, each other. I hope you are happy in 
your own soul, and that you live near to God. 
There is a great danger of forgetting the concerns 
of our own souls, whilst we are constantly employed 
in studying divine things. I know a little of this 
from experience, and perhaps you do. t I hope you 
, continue to pray for me, that I may be kept from 
sin and evil, for you know * the effectual fervent 
prayer of a righteous man availeth much.' Does 
your brother David make progress in the divine life? 
You must, in your next letter, give me some account 
of the change which I hope is wrought in him, for 
I feel an affectionate regard for all who belong to 

you. 1 ought to write to Mr. E . Is he well? 

When you see him, remember me to him, and also 

to your cousin F . Tell him to write to me, if 

it will suit him. You may, likewise, if you please, 
tell him how my affairs stand, as I have stated to 
you. It will be needless for me to give you any 
advice respecting the composition of your sermons, 
or the prosecution of your studies, as you, without 
doubt, have access to so many books on the subject. 
I hope you will read ' Watt's Improvement of the 
Mind.' I think it must be charming to attend 
Walker's lectures on philosophy. Do you attend 
them ? I should like it very much. Mr. H. told 
me, that he did give lectures at the academy : of 



76 LIFE OF SPENCER. PART f * 

course you are there when he does. You know 
now when to expect me in London, a little before 
Christmas, cannot say the exact day; so that now, 
if you like, you may count the time. Do not be 
long before you let me hear from you; and when 
you write, write a good deal. I remain, with the 
tenderest affection, your sincere and faithful friend, 
" THOMAS SPENCER." 



Such, at this early age, were the letters of this 
amiable youth. For the introduction of so large a 
number it is unnecessary to apologize. That heart 
is surely in an unenviable state which can derive no 
pleasure or profit from their perusal. Their sim- 
plicity is not their smallest ornament : whilst for the 
many useful hints which they suggest, as well as 
for the fervent and exalted piety which breathes 
throughout the whole, they may be consulted with 
considerable advantage by youthful candidates for 
the sacred office. Let such as early feel the desires 
he felt, and pant with an equal ardour for the work 
of God, imitate his modest diffidence— his devotional 
temper— his jealousy of the motives which influ- 
enced his choice— his intimate communion with his 
own heart— his love of retirement— his habitual 
reference of his affairs to the will of God— his ad- 
dictedness to self-examination and to prayer— and 
above all, that deep and solemn consciousness of 
the important work in which he desired, with fear 
and trembling, to be engaged. 

In resuming the thread of the narrative, which 
the introduction of these extracts from his corres- 
pondence has suspended, it cannot but be gratifying 
to the reader to learn the impression of Mr. Spen- 
cer's call and qualifications for the Christian minis- 



chap in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 77 

try, which his familiar intercourse with him had pro- 
duced on Mr. Hordle's mind. 

In a recent letter to a friend, that gentleman 
observes : — 

" I have had but one opinion concerning our late 
young friend, which is — that he was born a preacher, 
and as much called to it, as Jeremiah to the pro- 
phetic, or Paul to the apostolic, office. All the 
powers of his soul were evidently formed for it. 
While he was under my roof, preachers and preach- 
ing were the constant topics of his discourse ; and 
those studies which had an immediate reference to 
them were his delight. His remarkable gift in 
prayer, though then just turned of fifteen, astonished 
and pleased all that heard him. He usually took 
his turn in leading the devotions of our little family; 
and in his attendance on my ministry, I have some- 
times seen the feelings of his heart in the tears that 
gushed from his eyes." 

In perfect accordance with these sentiments are 
those expressed by the same gentleman, in a letter 
to a friend at Liverpool, dated Harwich, 13th 
Dec. 1811. 

" Of his genuine piety, his fine imagination, his 
early attachment to theological pursuits, his love of 
study in general, his amiable disposition, and the 
powerful bias of his mind to the work of the Chris- 
tian ministry, I have repeatedly declared my firm 
conviction ; and had Divine Providence spared his 
valuable life, I have no doubt, as his judgment 
ripened, his character, excellent as it was, would 
still have improved." 

Whilst such were the impressions, so truly honour- 
able to his character, left upon his tutor's heart by 
the sweetness of his temper, and the vigour of his 
mind — it is pleasing also to observe the grateful and 
lively remembrance which the pupil cherishes- of the 
kindness of his early friend. 



78 LIFE OF SrENCER. parti. 

In a letter, addressed to the Rev. Mr. Hordle, 
from Hertford, he observes : 

" The day of my examination is now fixed for the 
7th of January. To that day, dear Sir, I look for- 
ward with trembling : may God grant me all that 
strength and boldness I shall then need. It is im- 
possible for me to describe my feelings the night I 
left you. I tried to suppress any outward expres- 
sions of them as well as I could. But O ! tis trying 
to part with friends who are become very dear to 
r.s; but is it not, also, comforting to look forward 
to a never-ending eternity, when those wko are 
cemented into one glorious body by the bonds of 
divine love shall never part T Afterwards he adds: 
— " For my part, I desire to be entirely his, (God's) 
but still I find a heart of unbelief, ever prone to 
depart from the living God. I hope I feel my own 
unfitness for the important undertaking, for which 
it appears God designs me. May he keep me holy 
and humble, and fit me for all he has in reserve for 
me in the womb of Providence, whether prosperous, 
or adverse." 

In a subsequent letter, dated Hoxton, 25th 

March, 1807, he says — " I am told S , of 

Kingston, is going to Harwich : hope you will find 
him a blessing to your family, and when he shall 
leave you, may he review with as much pleasure the 

year 1807- as I do the year 1806.- 1 trust I shall 

be constantly enabled to obey the kind advice which 
you gave me, and to lay every human attainment at 
the foot of the cross of Jesus; to dedicate all I have 
to him, of whom I would always esteem it my highest 
honour to learn ; to give up every thing that 1 may 
be called to sacrifice for the promoting of his glory, 
and constantly to seek, not my own things, but the 
things which are Jesus Christ's." 
. In another, towards the close of the year 1807, 
he writes; — 



chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 79 

"I shall never forget the year I spent at Har- 
wich; viewing one circumstance with another, I 
doubt not, but that it was as happy a twelvemonth 
as I shall ever live." 

With such mutual feelings and expressions of 
affectionate regard, was Mr. Spencer's departure 
from Mr. HorcUVs family attended. And this re- 
view of them will not be in vain, if it suggest to the 
young persons who may contemplate this imperfect 
portrait of one, whom living they so much admired, 
the vast importance of that impression, which tjie 
conduct of their childhood or their youth may leave 
in the scenes of their earliest association. For the 
most part the character of the youth is the character 
of the man. If, on the circle of his earliest inter- 
course, an unfavourable impression of his disposition 
or his conduct is produced, there it is likely to re- 
main ; but, alas ! there it cannot be confined ; it not 
unfrequently travels further than the person with 
whom it is connected, and the character is familiar 
where the countenance is unknown. Who that has 
a respect, then, for himself, but must be anxious 
that the impression, upon which so much depends, 
should be a happy one ; and that the correct er habits 
of maturer age should not be counteracted in their 
favourable operation by the injurious fame, or un- 
pleasant recollections of his early years. 

But we must follow the amiable object of our 
contemplation to a new scene. 

The following are copious extracts from the papers 
which he submitted to the inspection of the com- 
mittee at Hoxton, on his formal application for 
admission into that institution. They were accom- 
panied by a note to the treasurer. 



*0 JU1FE OF SPENCER. 

Letter XIV. 
TO THOMAS WILSON, Esq. 



" Harwich, November 10, 18G& 

" Honoured Sir, 

" With diffidence I present the fol- 
lowing account of my short experience, doctrinal 
sentiments, and motives for wishing to engage in 
the solemn and important work of the ministry, to 
your judgment and that of the committee. I am, 
with the sincerest gratitude for your favours, your 
tumble servant, 

" THOMAS SPENCER." 



" Harwich, November 10, 1806. 
" It was my happiness to be born of 
parents, who maintained a regard for real piety and 
the fear of God ; by them I was, from my infancy, 
taught to read the Scriptures, together with other 
books of a serious nature. I think I may safely say, 
that from my childhood I felt some more than com- 
mon impressions on my mind, with respect to the ex- 
istence and perfections of God, the evil and awful 
consequences of sin, and the advantages of being 
religious ; but, alas ! these impressions, though so 
frequently felt, had not that abiding influence which 
they have had on the minds of others, but were like 
' the morning cloud and the early dew which passeth 
away.' As I grew rather older, I began to perceive 
some excellencies in religion, and to envy the hap- 
piness which I believed serious people enjoyed.. I 
knew something of the form of religion and the doc- 
trines of it, from having been taught catechisms, and 
lessons calculated to give youthful minds some ideas 



chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 81 

of the worship and conduct which God requires. 
Yet notwithstanding- this, I gave too much (far too 
much) attention to the reading of novels and ro- 
mances, the unhappy effect of which I lament to tho 
present day. Many of these books I procured of 
lads, without the knowledge of my father. I felt 
a degree of pleasure, in hearing lively, animated 
sermons; but I have reason to believe that this 
sprung from a desire to please my friends, aad give 
myself an opportunity of imitating the preacher's 
voice and gesture. I also composed little pieces of 
poetry on sacred subjects, which I have since de- 
stroyed, because I then knew nothing of experi- 
mental, vital godliness, and of course was only 
mocking God in them ; but I did not give up mak- 
ing verses. All this while, I was totally ignorant of 
that divine principle of grace in the heart, without 
which, I am sensible, nothing we can do is accept- 
able to God. I knew nothing of the Holy Spirit's 
work, in convincing me of sin, and leading me to 
Jesus Christ as my Saviour. I knew nothing of 
communion with God and with his Son. I hope 
some of the sermons of Mr. Ebenezer White, of 
Hertford, were not altogether useless to me, as well 
as some which I heard at Lady Huntingdon's cha- 
pel there : but from my conduct at that time, in 
various particulars, I cannot say that I had expe- 
rienced what is meant by being* born again. If 
you ask me from what time I date ray conversion to 
God, I must say, that the exact time I cannot tell ; 
but I think I may also say, that the Lord drew me 
gradually to himself, and by degrees I loved devo- 
tional exercises more and more : and I hope that I 
have, within these four years, experienced many 
refreshing seasons. How I wish to have my evi- 
dences brightened, as it respects personal interest in 
the Lord Jesus Christ! I desire to cast my all 
upon him, and wait bis will concerning me. How« 
e2 



82 LIFE OF SPENCER. P ^ RT «• 

ever short my experience in the divine life has been, 
can I not appeal to God, and say, ' Lord, thoa 
knowest all things, thoa knowest that I love thee?' 



" I hope that my reasons for wishing to be a la- 
bourer in the Lord's vineyard are sincere, and that 
they do not spring from any improper motives. If 
I should be called into it, I pray that I may be kept 
faithful, and never shun to declare the whole counsel 
of God. As I know something of the excellency 
of the ways of wisdom, I am anxious that my fellow- 
mortals may be partakers of the same grace, and 
that they may be brought to know God, and expe- 
rience the riches of divine love and mercy in Christ 
Jesus : and if God should so honour me, as to make 
me an instrument in his hand, of doing them real 
good, how happy should I be; how willing to endure 
[hardships for Jesus' sake. As I trust God has 
given me a desire to act for his glory, and I know 
"that he is glorified in the salvation of sinners, I am 
•willing, if He should call me to the work, to engage 
in it. I am aware, that it is an arduous and a diffi- 
cult work, yet from these principles, I would fain be 
a faithful minister of Jesus Christ. ■ I would follow 
the leadings of Divine Providence. By the good 
hand of my God upon me, I am brought hitherto ; 
and although some circumstances are against me, 
yet, * where he appoints, I'll go and dwell.' I am 
not quite sixteen years old, yet young as I am, I 
have committed many sins, and experienced many 
mercies. Now, unto him that is able to keep me 
from falling, and to present me before the presence 
of his glory with exceeding joy, be glory and ma- 
jesty, dominion and power, lor ever and ever, 
Amen," 



" 1 believe in one God as the object of religious 
worship ; that this God is from everlasting ; and that 



chap. ra. LIFE OF SPENCER. 83 

in our Jehovah there are three distinct persons, viz. 
the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, and yet 
these three are one ; that this is a mystery which we 
cannot explain, yet must believe, because it is de- 
clared in holy writ. That man was created holy, but 
fell from his original rectitude, and sunk himself and 
all his posterity into sin and woe. I believe also, 
that God from all eternity elected and chose his own 
people unto eternal salvation ; that men are in a 
lost state and condition, and are spiritually dead ; 
that they cannot be saved by any merit or works of 
their own, but only by the righteousness of Christ 
the Saviour ; that it is by the operation of God the 
Holy Spirit on the mind of man, that he becomes a 
sensible sinner; that his understanding- must be en- 
lightened before he can choose God for his portion, 
or the paths of religion as those in which he will 
walk. It was for this end and purpose that Christ 
Jesus came into the world, viz. to save sinners by 
his own blood ; and I am persuaded that there is 
salvation in no other but in him, and that * he is 
able to save to the very uttermost all that come unto 
God by him.' I believe that he is the eternal God, 
' the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever;' that 
his grace is all-sufficient; his name, person, and all 
that concerns him, is precious to them that believe ; 
that those who exercise a living faith upon him, are 
justified from all their sins — at the same time I know, 
that believers are called to be holy, and that it is by 
the consistency of their walk, that they are to evi- 
dence to those around them, that their profession is 
sincere, for ' without holiness no man shall see the 
Lord.' As I am fully satisfied with respect to the 
divine origin of the scriptures, and the inspiration 
of the holy men who wrote them, so I believe, that 
they are the unerring standard by which to try our 
faith, and upon which we are to rest our opinions, 
I believe, that the people of God should form them 



84 LIFE OF SPENCER. PART »• 

selves into separate churches, that they may enjoy 
the benefit of divine ordinances, such as Baptism 
and the Lord's Supper, together with the hearing of 
the word, &c. I believe, that the ordinance of Bap- 
tism is to be administered to the children of be- 
lievers, inasmuch as it is a sign of their admission 
into the visible church, and as it is emblematical of 
the giving of the Holy Ghost, and that it is to be 
administered by sprinkling. I believe, that, not- 
withstanding all the Christian's enemies and dangers, 
he shall hold on his way, and grow stronger and 
stronger; and though the doctrine of final perse- 
verance has been much abused, as well as its truth 
much questioned, it is an article of my faith, because 
God's word declares it. I believe in the approach 
of a judgment day— the eternal glory of believers, 
and the insufferable torments of the wicked in hell. 
I believe that God will have the whole glory of the 
salvation of those who are saved for ever and ever ; 
and that through all eternity they will ascribe domi- 
nion, power, and glory, to him who loved them, and 
washed them in his own blood — at the same time, 
sinners will everlastingly blame themselves for their 
perdition and woe." 



On the 7th of January Mr. Spencer appeared at 
Hoxton, before the committee, and underwent the 
examination which he had so long and so anxiously 
anticipated, with success and honour: was admitted 
a student, and became immediately an inmate of 
Ohe house. In a letter to his friend Mr. Hordle, 
dated Hoxton, January 21st, 1807, he says — 

" Two things make this day remarkable to me — 
one is, that it is my birth- day, as I am now sixteen 
years old ; the other is, that I have been a fortnight 
m this house. On Wednesday the 7th insi that 



chap ni LIFE OF SPENCER. 85" 

long dreaded day, I appeared before the committee. 
Your imagination may represent a little boy speak- 
ing before them. I felt a good deal of timidity, 

and waited the event with feelings of anxiety." 

" I hope I can say, I feel the importance of that 
work for which it appears God in his providence has 
designed me: but oh! I need larger degrees of 
grace to fill that station in such a manner, as that 
my own soul, and the souls of my fellow creatures, 

may be benefitted thereby." " I recall to my 

mind occurrences which transpired when I was at 
Harwich — O may I have all God's dealings sanc- 
tified unto me. I want a deeper acquaintance with 
my own heart, and a more influential knowledge of 
God my Saviour." 



PART II. 



FROM HTS ENTRANCE INTO THE ACADEMY AT 
HOXTON, TO HIS SETTLEMENT AT LIVERPOOL. 



CHAP. I. 

His Diligence at Hoxton. — His first Exercises in Preaching. 

lHAT, on his entrance into the academy at Hox- 
ton, Mr. Spencer was no novice in the knowledge 
and experience of divine things, is obvious from a 
perusal of the papers above cited. With a mind 
already the subject of considerable cultivation, and 
habits formed for the pursuits of science, he com- 
menced his academical course under the most auspi- 
cious circumstances. The importance of such a 
previous preparation in candidates for the Christian 
ministry, and the patronage of our dissenting col- 
leges, is not, perhaps, sufficiently considered. It is 
to be regretted, that so many enter without having 
previously obtained the lowest rudiments of general 
science, or even a tolerable acquaintance with their 
native tongue. The time allotted for a students 
residence is, in the most liberal institutions, but 



C"AP '• LIFE OF SPENCER. 87 

short, compared with the immense labour required 
and the magnitude of* the object to be obtained. 
But much of this time, short as it is, must be ex- 
pended in the inculcation of those first principles of 
knowledge, which might be easily obtained else- 
where; and then, when the student is somewhat 
prepared for studies more suitable to the dignity of 
a college, he begins to preach. Thus an attention 
which ought to be undiv idedly devoted to the labours 
of the study and the exercises of the class, is partly 
lavished on preparations for the pulpit and public 
services. Hence arose the plan, so judiciously 
adopted in certain cases, in connexion with the aca- 
demy of which Mr. Spencer was a member, and of 
the beneficial tendency of which he was so striking 
an example — of sending the candidates who might 
be defective in these radical points, or too young for 
admission, to some pious and able minister for pre- 
paratory instruction. But these instances, the re- 
sult of a peculiar necessity, shew the importance of 
an institution, founded expressly for preparatory 
studies, — that so a matter of such vast importance 
to the respectability of the ministry may not be left 
to the casual benevolence of liberal and enlightened 
individuals, or any happy combination of circum- 
stances in a solitary case. 

. In the mean time, to remedy, as far as may be, by 
his OAvn exertions, this serious defect, should be an 
object of conscientious regard to every young man 
whose views are directed to the Christian ministry. 
By a diligent improvement of his time — by a careful 
employment of those smaller portions of it, which in 
too many cases are suffered imperceptibly to slide 
away — aided by the friendly direction and advice of 
some judicious minister, which may without much 
difficulty be in every case obtained — any one of tole- 
rable capacity and perseverance might afford his, 
own mind a considerable degree of cultivation, and 



88 LIFE OF SPENCER. part n, 

attain a portion of knowledge, ere his entrance into 
an academy, most favourable to the facility and 
success of his pursuits whilst there. 

These remarks more particularly apply to those 
young men, who, with views directed towards the 
ministry, are still engaged in secular employments, 
and to whom the privileges of an academy must be, 
in the first instance, regarded as a distant object. 

Little of importance can be expected to have 
transpired, in connexion with the early part of Mr. 
Spencer's residence at Hoxton. It appears, how- 
ever, that here, as in the Poultry and at Harwich, 
his interesting appearance and amiable .manners 
soon gained him the love and esteem of all. The 
tutors and the students alike felt an interest in this 
new and youthful member of their literary society — 
and he applied himself with diligence to the improve- 
ment of those advantages which he there enjoyed. 
He was now introduced to a wider range of obser- 
vation and of study. But whilst a respect to the 
orders of the institution, and a desire to render 
himself, by useful acquirements, respectable in any 
circle in which it might be his future lot to move, 
induced him to apply with becoming diligence to 
the various occupations assigned him, he yet dwelt 
with peculiar attachment on such as were more im- 
mediately connected with the work of preaching. 
And with an ardent desire to be early and exten- 
sively employed in the ministry of the Gospel, a 
desire strengthened and confirmed by time, it can 
be no matter of surprise, that to this darling object 
were directed all the hours of his leisure, and all the 
powers of his soul. 

From his entrance into the academy to the period 
when his numerous engagements called him much 
from home, he usually attended the Rev. John 
Clayton, and has often expressed his obligations to 



CSlfcl. LIFE OP SPENCER. $9 

that gentleman for the great edification he enjoyed 
whilst he sat beneath his ministry. 

At the vacation in June he returned to his fathers 
house at Hertford. During his stay there he 
preached his first sermon in public. It was at the 
small village of Colliers End, six miles from Hert • 
ford. His auditory consisted of about thirty plain 
country people — and his text was I. John, chap. i. 
ver. 7, ' The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth 
us from all sin/ Simple and unlettered, however, as 
his audience might be, they had sufficient penetra- 
tion to discover the uncommon talents of their 
youthful preacher. These, together with the no- 
velty and loveliness of his juvenile appearance, 
excited in that little village an astonishment and 
admiration, which have since circulated through all 
the districts of the great metropolis, and almost 
every town in Great Britain. How beautiful is the 
progression which marks all the dispensations of 
nature, providence, and grace. From the smallest 
springs the mightiest rivers flow, to promote the 
fruitfulness or waft the commerce of the globe. 
From the grain of mustard seed, the kingdom of 
heaven gradually rises and expands, till it becomes 
a great tree, beneath whose shade all the nations of 
the earth repose. And in the history of individuals, 
— from the day of small things, has not unfrequently 
arisen a career, whose brilliancy has dazzled and 
surprised the world. It is for the most part denied 
to men, who move in a public and extended circle, 
to witness those early displays of genius, and that 
gradual developement of talents, afterwards so emi- 
nent for their. usefulness or splendour, upon which" 
the eye of a philosopher would love to dwell. This 
is usually the privilege of a few obscure individuals 
in some retired spot. The new fledged bird first 
tries its pinions in its own sequestered bower, ere 
it soars above its native glen, and courts the admi- 



90 LIFE OF SPENCER. ™" T "• 

ration of man by the boldness of its flight, or the 
sweetness of its song. And yet there is such a 
peculiar interest connected with the early efforts of 
an exalted mind, and the first stages of an illustrious 
career, that we gather with diligence all that can be 
gleaned respecting them, and listen with delight to 
the narration of those who were spectators. But 
few perhaps who have heard of Spencer, but would 
gladly be transported to the peaceful village of 
Collier s End, and mingle with the auditors under 
his first sermon there. And it requires no uncom- 
mon acquaintance with the principles of our nature, 
and the doctrine of association in the human mind, 
to predict, that the villages of Halfway, Street, and 
Lezciskam, in Kent, will derive some celebrity in the 
religious world from their having been the scenes of 
ministerial labour, when a youth, to a preacher, who 
for these fourteen years past, has held the delighted 
auditories of the metropolis the willing captives of 
his eloquence.* And surely such a principle as 
this, whilst in its gratification it yields an indescri- 
bable pleasure, may be cultivated to no small ad- 
vantage. It banishes from the mind that despair of 
attaining to eminence which a contemplation of it 
might otherwise inspire, by an assurance that the 
object at which we aim may be within our reach, 
since its present possessor once occupied the same 
level with ourselves, and was attended by circum- 
stances as unfavourable to his elevation as those 
which may encompass us. 

* The name of Dr. Collyer is too well known to derive any addi- 
tional celebrity from being copied on a page my hand has written. 
And perhaps I may be censured for indulging in an allusion here which 
bears at least the appearance of flattery. Far be it from me to che- 
rish such a principle. The work in which I am engaged is sacred to 
friend-hip and to the memory of departed worth; and is it at all 
surprising, that whilst endeavouring to preserve the record of a friend 
removed by death, my memory should sometimes recur to the many 
excellencies which have so long endeared to me a friend from whom 
I am removed by distance? 



rHAP '■ LIFE OF SPENCER. 91 

Our amiable young preacher's first, sermon excited 
a strong- desire in his hearers for a repetition of his 
labours; and his fame, rapidly circulating, pro- 
duced an invitation also, from another quarter, for 
the following Sabbath. To these solicitations, we 
may suppose, he complied, without much reluc- 
tance, and he preached again on the morning of 
July 12th, at a village called Brought it. His text 
on this occasion was Colossians, chap. iii. verse 3, 
* Ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in 
God.' In the ai'terhoon and evening of the same 
day, he preached again at Colliers End. In the 
afternoon from Acts, chap. xix. verse 2. ' Have ye 
received the Holy Ghost V In the evening from 
Philippians, chap. iii. verse 18, ' They are the 
enemies of the cross of Christ.' The attendance at 
Colliers End was, on this second Sabbath, so much 
increased, that the room would scarcely contain the 
people who were desirous of hearing, and everyone 
seemed still more deeply affected by the impressive 
manner, the solemn doctrines, and the surprising 
powers of this young- divine. On the following 
Thursday he preached again at a place called Brick- 
enden, from John, chap. iv. verse 29, ' Come sec a 
man which told me all things that ever I did ; is not 
this the Christ?' On Sunday, July 19th, he again 
resumed his labours at Colliers End, and preached 
in the afternoon from II. Chronicles, chap. xxxiiL 
verses 12 and 13, ' And when he was in affliction he 
besought the Lord his Gocl, and humbled himself 
greatly before the God of his fathers, and prayed 
unto him ; and he was entreated of him, and heard 
his supplication, and brought him again to Jerusa- 
lem, and to his kingdom. Then Manasseh knew 
that the Lord he was God.' In the evening the 
multitude that assembled was so great, that to gra- 
tify them all, he was under the necessity of preaching 
out of doors, which he did with great animation and 



92 LIFE OF SPENCER. rARr »' 

effect, from Romans, chap. xiv. verse 12, 'So then 
every one of us shall give account of himself to God.' 
It appears from the report of one who was present at 
the delivery of this sermon, that it was remarkably 
impressive. Although surrounded by so a great a 
crowd, he seemed quite undaunted, and expressed 
himself with an ease and an energy which produced 
the most serious impressions upon many, and excited 
the astonishment of all. To see the old and grey- 
headed melted into tears beneath the simple touches 
and fervent appeals of a youth, but little more than 
sixteen years of age, proclaiming, with the boldness 
and propriety of an experienced veteran, the glorious 
Gospel of the blessed God, must have been truly 
interesting. And it is also gratifying to know, that 
by the earliest labours of this excellent young man* 
happy and saving effects were produced, which re- 
main to this day. On the evening of Thursday, 
July 23d, he preached at Bimtingjbrd, a town 
about ten miles from Hertford, from John, chap. x„ 
verse 9, ' By me, if any man enter in, he shall be 
saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture/ 
On Sunday, July 26th, he preached again, afternoon 
and evening, at Collier's End. In the afternoon 
from John, chap. vi. verse 44, ' No man can come 
to me except the Father which hath sent me, draw 
him : and I will raise him up at the last day/ In the 
evening from II. Timothy, chap. ii. verse 19, ' Ne- 
vertheless the foundation of God standeth sure, 
having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are 
his ; and, Let every one that nameth the name of 
Christ depart from iniquity.' On the Wednesday 
evening following he preached at Hormead, from 
Psalm iv. verse 6, ' There be many that say, who 
will shew us any good { Lord, lift thou up the light 
of thy countenance upon us.' And on the Thursday 
evening again at Brickenden. At Hormead his 
congregation amounted to six or seven hundred 



chap.c. LIFE OF SPENCER. 93 

persons, and the place where they were assembled 
was a barn.* Indeed by this time his fame had so 
widely circulated, that wherever he preached, num- 
bers flocked from all parts to hear and see this 
wonderful youth; and he might have preached every 
day in the week, had he been so inclined, so numer- 
ous were the invitations that crowded upon him. 
However, his vacation drew towards a close; and his 
return to Hoxton suspended for a while these pub- 
lic exercises. He preached on the evening of Sun- 
day, August 2d, at Roydon ; and we hear no more 
of his preaching till December. 

It certainly admits of a doubt, whether these early 
exercises in preaching are beneficial or injurious. 
That they are injurious, may be argued from the 
circumstance, that they tend to elate and dissipate 
the mind — to inspire it with conceited notions of its 
own superior powers — too soon, alas ! to familiarize 
the ear to the insinuating sounds of flattery, and, 
investing the young man with a high opinion of his 
present qualifications, to annihilate those humiliat- 
ing views of his ignorance and imperfection, — and 



• The circumstance of Mr. Spencer's preaching in a barn, and in the 
open air, may perhaps excite unpleasant feelings in the breasts of 
some who, having occasionally heard him with delight, may honour 
these pages with a perusaL They may feel regret that he should ever 
have been so irregular, or have ever trodden in the steps of men, who 
are universally condemned as enthusiasts and fanatics. It is neces- 
sary, therefore, in order to vindicate him, and all who have been 
guilty of a similar offence against the laws of ecclesiastical decorum , 
from the charge of enthusiasm and fanaticism, to produce some pas- 
sages of scripture, by which their conduct, in this respect, is fully 
justified : i Howbeit, the Most High dwelleth not in temples made 
with hands.' — Acts, chap. vii. ver.^e 48. l Where (whether in a field, 
a barn, or a temple ) two or three are gathered together in my name, 
there am I in the midst of them.' — Matthew, chap, xviii. verse 20. 
' Go out into the highways and hedges and compel them to come in.' 
— Luke, chap. xiv. verse 23. The most impressive sermon ever 
preached was delivered in the open air, upon a mount. And the 
wilderness of Judea was the scene of his ministry, who was honoured 
to be the forerunner of the Messiah. 



94 LIFE OF SPENCER. part it. 

that ardent panting" after knowledge, in which lies 
the great source of respectability and usefulness 
in after life. Not to notice those practical errors 
into which the inexperience and incaution natural 
to youth may lead him, when engaged in directing 
men in affairs of infinite and eternal moment. If 
the aged evangelist, — the venerable pastor, is heard 
so frequently to deplore his imperfection and lament 
the possibility of error in his public instructions — a 
yowig man may well proceed in his early labours 
with caution, and had need to be possessed of no 
common discretion and knowledge, to counteract 
the suspicions necessarily excited, in the breasts of 
the thoughtful, by his youth. 

But perhaps, on the other hand, there are peculiar 
advantages connected with an early entrance on the 
work of preaching. The novelty of the circum- 
stance excites attention, and many are savingly 
impressed under his ministry, who, but for the 
juvenility of the preacher, had never heard the 
Gospel from his lips. And this is doubtless amongst 
the many means which an infinite wisdom has se- 
lected, for accomplishing, in the conversion of sin- 
ners, the purposes of an infinite love. Besides 
that, on the preacher's own mind, his early employ- 
ment in ministerial labour, may have a most happy 
influence. By an early experience of the difficul- 
ties and trials of the work, he may attain an ease 
and a skill in its execution, which is perhaps but 
seldom reached by the man who has commenced 
much later in the day. In youth the mind is all 
activity, and difficulties which are met with then, are 
far more easily surmounted than when they are pre- 
sented to the opposition of maturer age. But after 
all, much depends upon the peculiar circumstances 
of the individual case. Many a man is better pre- 
pared for the work of the ministry at sixteen, than 
others are at forty ; and whilst the popularity and 



chap i. L IFE 01? SPENCER. 95 

flattery which usually attend the course of youthful 
preachers would he the ruin of some, there are others 
endued with a prudence and a piety sufficient to resist 
their influence. And he it remembered, that the 
time allotted to every man for labour is at best but 
short, and that for many of our ministers — alas! that 
for the most part these should be the most eminent 
and useful !— is prepared an early grave ! To be 
lavishing the precious time which ought to be de- 
voted to the salvation of immortal souls, in the 
acquisition of profound and extensive erudition; to 
be immured for years in the walls of a study, and 
confined to the precincts of a college, impairing the 
physical strength by midnight application, and smo- 
thering the flames of holy zeal amid the ices of me- 
taphysics, and the lumber of heathenish philosophy, 
whilst thousands of immortal souls are perishing, to 
whose eternal interests those years might be success- 
fully devoted — is certainly a conduct highly culpable, 
and not in the spirit of him who said — ' work while 
it is day, for the night cometh, when no man can 
work.' Far be it from the writer of this volume in 
any way to undervalue or decry that knowledge, 
which, in a minister of the Gospel, the circumstan- 
ces of the present times so imperiously demand. — 
These remarks only apply to those cases in which 
years are expended in adding to a stock, already 
more than sufficient for present purposes, without 
applying to m\y practical use that which is so largely 
possessed. They may affect such institutions as, 
having for their object the preparation of young 
men for the work of the ministry, suffer the zeal for 
God, and the love of souls, which led them to its 
patronage, at least to lose a portion of its fire by 
years of dry scholastic disquisition, ere they are 
suffered to go forth into the world and expend them 
on their proper object — the conversion of their dying- 
fellow men. 



96 LIFE OF SPENCER. pabtii. 

With respect to Mr. Spencer, the world will 
judge whether he began to preach too soon or not. 
I believe that Liverpool, by far the most competent 
to express an opinion in this case, will, without 
hesitation, decide in the negative. Perhaps there 
are who may be disposed to say, " this was an ex- 
ception." — Granted; — but in such exceptions let a 
similar liberty be allowed. Where extraordinary 
gifts, attended by extraordinary grace, so early de- 
velope themselves, allow them a proportionably 
early exercise, nor rob the church of God of an 
useful minister, who, ere the period a cautious po- 
licy has fixed for the commencement of lus labour 
is arrived — may be summoned to his rest. 

On his return to Hoxton we find Mr. Spencer 
preaching occasionally in the workhouses — an admi- 
rable school for young divines. Surely this is no 
inconsiderable circumstance in which our dissenting 
colleges are superior, as schools of practical di- 
vinity, to those of the establishment. There the 
student emerges at once from the retirement of 
private life to ail the publicity of the sacred office. 
Such a sudden transition, to a delicate mind, must 
often be attended with considerable pain, and may 
lead, in the first few instances, to a confusion and 
embarrassment most distressing to himself, and most 
unfriendly to his prospects of future respectability 
and usefulness. On the other hand, with us the 
student gradually, almost imperceptibly, glides into 
the ministry, and by a continued, but cautious, en- 
largement of the sphere in which he is allowed to 
move, he rises from a few poor people in a work- 
house, to address t^he most respectable auditories. 

On his return to his father's house for the Christ- 
mas vacation, Mr. Spencer preached for the first 
time at Hertford. It did not happen to him, as is 
often the case, that he had no honour in his own 
country. Numbers pressed, urged, no doubt, in 



chap. i. LIFE OP SPENCER, 97 

the first instance, by curiosity, to hear him; and 
those who are accustomed to mark the influence of 
similar circumstances upon a susceptible mind, will 
enter a little into his emotions, when rising to ad- 
dress, upon the most solemn of all subjects, a vast 
multitude of his fellow-townsmen, amongst whom he 
recognised many of his juvenile companions — the se- 
veral members of his own family — and, not the least 
interesting object in the group, the venerable matron 
who had early instructed him in the principles of his 
mother tongue, and whose lot it was to observe the 
first faint dawnings of a talent, then rapidly advan- 
cing to its fullest exercise and strength. But long 
after the influence of novelty may be supposed to 
have subsided, he continued to excite the admiration 
of his native town. His first sermon at Hertford 
was preached on the evening of Sunday, December 
20th, at the Rev. Mr. Maslin's chapel, from Ephe- 
sians, chap. v. verse II, ' And have no fellowship 
with the unfruitful works of daz'kness.' He preached 
again on the Wednesday evening following, and on 
tlte evening of Christmas day, on which occasion his 
text was, Micah, chap. v. verse 2, ' But thou, 
Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be little among 
the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall he come 
forth unto me that is to be Ruler in Israel, whose 
goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting.' 
The passages of scripture selected by Mr. Spen- 
cer, as the subjects of his earliest discourses, afford 
another demonstration, in addition to many others, 
of the general bias of his mind. They are such as 
one may well imagine a preacher, panting for the 
salvation of his fellow-men, would select for the 
commencement of his public labours. The topics 
which they suggest are of all others the most solemn, 
as they are the most simple and the most important 
in the whole range of inspired truth, and hence they 
were best adapted to the preacher's age, and the 

F 



OS LIFE OF SPENCER. parth, 

unlettered character of his auditors* It seems, that 
in his earliest sermons there was nothing- of that 
parade and glare — nothing of that excessive fond- 
ness of figures and love of imagery, which too often 
mark the first compositions of youthful preachers — * 
preachers who, in a more advanced stage of their 
ministry, have not been less respectable or useful 
than he. 

Whether this is to be considered as an excellence 
or a defect, it is probable, with some, may be a matter 
of debate. Dr. Blair, (or rather Quintilian, from 
whom he copies,*) in his remarks on the early com- 
positions of public speakers, urges in favour of that 
exuberance of imagination and excess of ornament, 
— that time and experience will prune all this away, 
and in proportion as the fire of youth declines, the 
glare of the composition will sink into the settled 
lustre of maturer age. And hence he argues for 
the indulgence of imagination at this period ; since 
by the tkne the powers are called into full and 
stead v exercise, they will have undergone a certain 
train of discipline, and have found their proper limits. 
•But if the composition has all the judicious sobriety 
of that maturer age, amid the vigour and vivacity of 
youth, what is it likely to be in the more advanced 
stages of its exercise, but cold, insipid, and dull? 

But surely all depends upon the nature of the 
subject, and the source whence the public orator is 
to draw the energy which must give animation to 
his discourses. The fire of genius, the glow of ima- 
gination, must be the enkindling torches in the se- 
nate — -at the bar ; but, though not altogether useless 
in the pulpit, yet they are not the lawful sources of 
animation there. It is not the blaze of genius, or 

• Quintilian again quotes fronvCicero. ihe great master of elo- 
quence; whose remarks on this subject are worthy his immortal 
p eu —Vjd. Quint. Just. Ora-t. lib. n ch. 4 ; et Cicero de Orat. lib. 
ji. ch. 21. 



c «-* r ■«« LIFE OF SPENCER. 99 

the glow of imagination ; but the sacred flame of 
(ervent piety, the holy kindlings of a mind moved 
by principles derived from heaven, and the generous 
efforts of a soul impelled by an intense desire for 
the salvation of a dying world, that must impart life 
and energy to the glowing statements, — the warm 
and empassioned appeals of the ambassador for 
Christ. Other sources of animation may be ex- 
hausted by exercise, and dried up by time ; but this 
can never fail. It will remain the same when the 
head of the venerable prophet is covered with hoary 
hairs, and the body is sunk in the decrepitude of 
age. Nay, as in the case of the apostle Paul, it 
will rise into brighter radiance as he advances to 
the termination of his course, — a more ardent pant- 
ing for the salvation of mankind will mark his dying 
hours, than that which attended his entrance on his 
labours; and, with David, the last prayer his spirit 
breathes will be for the universal diffusion of that 
gospel, which it has been the business and the 
honour of his life to preach — ' Blessed be the Lord 
God, the God of Israel, who only doeth wondrous 
things. And blessed be Ins glorious name for 
«ver : and let the whole earth be filled with hi* 
glory. Amen and Amen !' 



CHAP. II. 



His Popularity in London. — His extensive Labours in various Parts of 
the Country. — He visits Dorking for the recovery of his Health. 



WE now arrive at a period in Mr. Spencer's 
history, peculiarly critical and important. Dur- 
ing the vacation of Christmas, ] 807, the Rev. Mr. 
Leifchild, of Kensington, was supplying the pulpit 
at Hoxton chapel. One Sabbath afternoon, in 
January, Mr. Spencer being then returned to the 
academy from Hertford, Mr. L. expressed a wish 
that he should assist him, in the public service, by- 
reading the scriptures and engaging in prayer. 
The request was granted, and an extract of a letter 
obligingly addressed by that gentleman to me, will 
convey a lively picture of the deep impression which 
his appearance and manner produced upon the 
large congregation before whom he stood. 

" But when he appeared in the pulpit- 
after the first emotions of surprise were over, and 
after the mistakes of some, who supposed that he 
was a little boy belonging to the gallery, who, from 
ignorance or thoughtlessness, had gone up the pulpit 
stairs, instead of those leading to his seat, had been 
corrected, so sweetly did he read the chapter,* so 

* On the eveniug of the following Sunday, Mr. L. addressed young 
people ; when Mr. Spencer again conducted the devotional part of the 
service. The chapter which he then read was Ecclesiastes xii. A person 
since received into the church at Hoxton, dated her first serious im- 
pressions from the reading of that chapter, and the solemn prayer 
then offered up. 



«hap.u. LIFE OF SPENCER. 101 

earnestly, so seripturally, so experimentally, did he 
engage in prayer, that for the whole six Sabbaths 
afterwards he became the chief magnet of attraction 
to the place. The people now insisted upon it he 
should preach, I need not name his subsequent 
success." 

The entreaties of the people having prevailed, 
Mr. Spencer, though contrary to the standing order 
of the institution, was allowed to preach. It was a 
delicate situation. Yet it was one to which he had 
long and anxiously aspired. Indeed, so strong was 
his desire for the public engagements of the minis- 
try, that the fear of being long denied the gratifi- 
cation of his wishes, on account of his youth, actually 
preyed upon his spirits so severely as even to affect 
his health. But it was not from the love of fame or 
popular applause that he cherished this desire ; it 
was from the hope of being early and extensively 
useful ;— as if urged by a presentiment of his im- 
pending fate— immediately to commence those ho- 
nourable labours from which he was to be called so 
soon. 

When he appeared in the pulpit at Hoxton, a 
youth just seventeen years of age, he betrayed none 
of that distressing anxiety which marks the candi- 
date for public approbation ; but stood with all the 
dignified composure, and spoke with all the unem- 
barrassed energy, of an ambassador for Christ, 
His text was Psalm xxxii. verse 6, ' For this shall 
every one that is godly pray unto thee in a time 
when thou mayest be found ; surely in the floods of 
great waters they shall not come nigh unto him/ 
At the close of his discourse, the sentiments which 
dwelt upon the lips and countenances of his auditors 
were those of pleasure, admiration, and surprise, 
His excessive youth — the simplicity of his appear- 
ance — the modest dignity of his manner — the sweet- 
ness of his voice— the weight and importance of his 



102 LIFE OP SPENCER. ™" »• 

doctrine — and the force — the affection — and the 
fervour with which he directed it, to the hearts and 
consciences of those who heard him — charmed and 
delighted, whilst they edified. And returning from 
the sanctuary to the social circle, they dwelt alter- 
nately upon the loveliness of the preacher, and the 
importance of the truths which they had heard from 
his lips. 

Upon this scene the Christian student mav, with 
advantage, pause and meditate. Looking forward,, 
perhaps with considerable apprehension, to the 
period of his public entrance on the labours of the 
ministry, he may be anxious to ascertain what was 
the secret spring — the hidden source, of that calm 
composure and unfettered boldness, which charac- 
terised the earliest addresses of this interesting 
youth. To such then I can confidently sny, — it 
was not the proud consciousness of superior powers, 
— of erudition — of genius, or of eloquence ; but it 
was the influence of a heart warmed with the love 
of Christ, big with the vast moment of his solemn 
theme, and panting with an ardour which no cir- 
cumstances of difficulty could suppress, for the 
salvation of sinners. Such an influence as this will 
make the coward bold, and convert the most timid 
and feeble into valiant and successful champions of 
the cross. Before an influence like this, the love of 
fame, — the glare of popularity, — the opinions and the 
plaudits of mankind retire. No consideration re- 
mains, but that of the worth of immortal souls, and 
the importance of their salvation. This, under the 
agency of the Eternal Spirit, whose assistance every 
faithful minister may with confidence expect, will 
supply a closeness of appeal to arrest the attention 
— furnish topics of discourse to inform the judg- 
ment, and animated expostulations to warm the heart. 
When the blaze of genius and of oratory is extin- 
guished, this will continue to burn with a steady 



chap. n. LIFE OF SPENCER. 103 

flame. And whilst many, his acknowledged supe- 
riors in talent and in literature, are left behind, the 
preacher in whose breast it glows will be conducted 
to scenes of extensive usefulness, and the enjoyment 
of an honourable renown. 

Mr. Spencer now became the topic of general 
discourse, — the subject of universal enquiry. His 
name spread far and wide. His danger became 
daily more and more imminent. Letters pressed 
upon him, filled with flattery. — Invitations arrived 
at the academy from all parts, for his services ; and 
he appeared, as a friend, who witnessed his sudden 
and extraordinary elevation, observed, like one 
standing on the brow of a precipice, amid the most 
violent gusts of wind. 

Disapprobation cannot be expressed in terms too 
strong, of the conduct which is usually adopted by 
the religious public towards their favourite, and 
especially their youthful preachers. And the cen- 
sure which may, in a lamentable degree, admit of 
universal application, falls with pre-eminent pro- 
priety on the professors of religion in the metropolis 
and its neighbourhood. There, indeed, by the per- 
petuai accession of fresh objects, to the sphere in 
which they move, such a love of novelty — such a 
fondness of variety — such a taste for something 
original — is excited and constantly fed — that what- 
ever is uniform and solid, in the ministry of their 
established and experienced pastors, while it secures 
the attention and regard of the judicious and dis- 
cerning, is too often neglected as stale and insipid 
by the more lively and enlightened class of hearers. 
A new name is announced on the cover of a maga- 
zine, or from the pulpit of some celebrated chapel, 
and thither the unstable multitude direct their 
steps. — They sit in judgment on the preacher's 
manner — his appearance — his action, and his voice ; 
for amongst too many, alas ', it '\s is to be lamented, 



104 LIFE OF SPENCER. ™*t "• 

that the solemn truths which he delivers are but 
secondary objects of regard. If there should be 
nothing striking in his manner — nothing melodious 
in his voice — nothing singular in his appearance — 
nothing peculiar in his system — and nothing parti- 
cularly favourable in the circumstances of his intro- 
duction to the pulpits of the metropolis, there he 
may continue his appointed period, and when it has 
expired, return to the peaceful village or the quiet 
town, where it is his lot to labour, 

" The world forgetting — by the world forgot." 

On the other hand, with this class of hearers the 
preacher who secures their admiration instantly be- 
comes their idol. As if irresistibly impelled to ex- 
tremes, they lavish on him the warmest eulogies and 
adulation, often too palpable to be endured. For- 
getting that he is a man of like passions with them- 
selves, they heap their honours on his head as though 
lie could remain insensible to the plaudits they be- 
stow^ and perfectly superior to the influence of every 
principle of pride. 

The following lines of the inimitable Cowper well 
express the sentiments which in these remarks must 
suggest themselves to every thinking mind : — 

" O Popular Applause! what heart of man 

Is proof against thy sweet seducing charms? 

The wisest, and the best feel urgent need 

Of all their caution in thy gentlest gales ; 

But swelVd into a gust— who then, alas 1 

With all his canvass spread, and inexpert, 

And therefore heedless, can withstand thy power? 

Praise from the rivell'd lips of worthless bald 

Decrepitude, and in the looks of lean 

And craving Poverty, and in the bow 

Respectful of the smutch'd artificer, 

Is oft too welcome, and may much disturb 

The bias of the purpose. How much more 

Pourd forth by beauty splendid and polite, 

In language soft as Adoration breathes? 

Ah, spare your Idol! think him human still. 

Charms he may have; but he has frailties too. 

Pote not too much, nor spoil what ye admire." 



CiiAP.n. LIFE OF SPENCER. 105 

But the preaching- of Mr. Spencer, even in his 
earliest discourses, was not of that light and mere- 
tricious kind which may secure the temporary* admi- 
ration of the wandering and unsettled. It possessed 
much of the solid, — -the experimental, and judicious; 
and this secured him the attention and esteem of 
those, whose approbation any man would consider it 
an honour to enjoy. But this only tended to heighten 
his danger. God, however, gave him grace equal 
to his day. His letters during his popularity in 
London breathe the same spirit of humility as that 
which marked his earlier correspondence ; and a 
piety seldom surpassed in fervour and sincerity 
tended to preserve him steady in the midst of that 
treacherous sea, upon whose billows, though young 
and inexperienced, it was his lot to ride. 

Numerous and pressing however as were the in- 
vitations from different parts of the metropolis and 
its neighbourhood, yet Mr. Spencer did not preach 
again in London (except in the workhouses, which 
the students regularly supplied, and also once in a 
small chapel in Hackney Road) until September. 
In the meanwhile his talent for preaching had ample 
exercise in various parts of the country, which dur- 
ing this period he was allowed to visit. So that, 
from January 7th to September 8th he preached no 



* I believe that general experience will justify the observation, 
that however, attendant circumstances may contribute, for awhile 
to render an individual popular, nothing but sterling worth can 
secure its perpetuity ; and whenever the preaching of a popular 
minister has endured, without injury to his reputation, the ordeal of 
a ten or twenty years' trial, he may safely be regarded as possessing* 
an excellence superior to any thing his manner could exhibit. But I 
feel the delicacy of the topic I have thus ventured to introduce, and 
gladly refer to illustrations of the same subject by more experienced 
and far abler hands.— See, Fuller's Life of Pearce; and Jay's Life 
of Cornelius Winter. — Books in which examples, the one of more 
public, the other of more retired, but not less transcendent excellence, 
seem to live before us for our instruction. To every student for the 
Christian ministry they must prove an invaluable treasure. 

f2 



108 LIFE OF SPENCER. part ir. 

less than sixty times. The following are the prin- 
cipal places which were then favoured with his 
labours: — Roydon, Godmanch eater, Ripton, Bun- 
tingford, Hertford, Dorking, Rumford, Harlow, 
Royston, Hadham, Hayes, Cliigwell, and Mill-Hilt. 
At all these places the attention he excited was con- 
siderable, and the impression he left remains with 
the people to this day. 

Mr. Spencer's second sermon at Hoxton chapeF 
was delivered on the evening of Thursday, Septem- 
ber 8th. It confirmed the opinion of his excellence 
produced by the first. His text was, Acts x. verse 
36, ' He is Lord of all.' 

The general sentiment of approbation and delight 
at first excited by his youthful appearance and his 
extraordinary pulpit talerts, was now deepened and 
established, and he began to preach pretty exten- 
sively in the pulpits of the metropolis and its neigh- 
bourhood. On Sunday, September 18th, we find 
him in the pulpit at Holywell Mount chapel, and on 
the Sunday following in that at Kennington chapel; 
and on the afternoon of Sunday, November 13th, 
he supplied the chapel in Old Gravel Lane, Wap- 
ping.* During the Autumn of this year he also 
visited several parts of the country immediately sur- 
rounding London ; and he preached, among other 
places, at Upminster, Epsom, Guildford, Roydon, 
and High Wycombe. 

With respect to the wisdom and propriety of 
permitting such extensive public labours, in one so 
young, and at so early a stage of his academical 
course, there will be perhaps a diversity of opinion. 
On the general question, in which this is but an in- 
dividual case, there can be but one sentiment. No- 

* The church assembling in Old Gravel Lane formerly sat under 
the ministry of the late Rev. Noah Hill, but now enjoys the pastoral 
care of the Rev. Mr. Hooper, oue of the tutors in the college at 
Hoxton. 



chap it. lh? E op SPEKCER. 107 

thing tends more to dissipate the mind, than much 
travelling- and much society- And particularly un- 
friendly to the fixed and laborious habits of a stu- 
dent's life is that kind of intercourse with society, 
which the young- minister, in his occasional visits, 
usually obtains. The esteem in which, for the most 
part, the name of a minister is held, in the circles 
which he enters, secures him an attention and an 
ease by far too flattering not to be injurious; whilst 
the refined and fascinating- manners of some societies 
but ill prepare the mind for the privations and la- 
bours of academic life. * But perhaps a far mere 
serious object of regard is the time which is thus 
necessarily and irretrievably lost to the great and 
avowed object of his pursuit. It is impossible to 
take a review of the past year of Mr. Spencer's 
life, and number up the several places at which he 
lias preached — at some of them two or three times, 
whilst others he visited more than once, calculating 
their respective distances from Hoxton, and the 
time necessarily occupied in travelling, together 
with the many hours, perhaps days, which must have 
been consumed in preparing the discourses there 
delivered,— without being struck with a conviction, 
of the immense loss which, in a literary point of 
view, he must have sustained. And the pursuit of 
literature is, after all, the professed object of our 
dissenting colleges. Considering too, that this was 
but Mr. Spencer's second year of study, and con- 
necting this with the shortness of the term he had to 
stay, and his exceeding youth, the impression is still 
deepened. But Mr. Spencer's was an extraordi- 
nary case. His fort was the composition and deli- . 
very of sermons. He was at home and happy only 
in the sacred work. He seemed but to live for this 
object. Other objects he might contemplate, with 
respect and even esteem, excited by a conviction 
of their utility and excellence — but on this his heart 



108 LIFE OF SPENCER. tarth, 

perpetually dwelt "with a fervent and impassioned 
love. It was evidently for this God had especially 
designed him ; and for the work he had to accom- 
plish, and the early account he had to render, — all 
perhaps are now convinced that he was not suffered 
to begin too soon. For one whose day of useful- 
ness has proved so short, and over whom the night 
of death so early and so suddenly has shed its gloom, 
we cannot but rejoice that its first dawn was devoted 
to his honourable labour, and not even a solitary 
hour neglected, from the commencement to the ter- 
mination of his career.* 

Mr. Spencer preached again at Hoxton chapel 
on Christmas day, morning and evening ; and also 
delivered an address, on the following evening, at 
the prayer meeting. A day or two after, he left 
London for Brighton, and preached his first sermon 
in that celebrated seat of gaiety and fashion on the- 
evening of Thursday, December 29th, at the Coun- 
tess of Huntingdon's chapel, from Zachariah, chap, 
vi. verse 12, * Behold the man whose name is the 
BRANCH, and he shall build the temple of the 
Lord .' On Sunday, 1 st January, 1809, he preached 
in the afternoon at the Rev. Mr. Styles's chapel, 
and again in the evening at the Countess's. 

I am the more particular in marking the date of 
his first visit to Brighton, as it commences a new 
year, and forms also a most important epoch in his 
history. The interesting- and endeared connexions 
which he afterwards formed there, tend to throw a 
new and brilliant light upon his character; whilst 



• A contemplation of the facts connected with the interesting, but 
melancholy history of Spencer, may however tend to shew, that 
whilst much preaching and much travelling are to be deprecated as 
evils, especially in the earlier stages of a student's course, yet that no 
specific rules can be established in this case for universal and invari- 
able application. On the propriety of the thing, in every case, the 
tutors are the best qualified to decide. 



chip. ii. LIFE OF SPENCER. 109 

they shed a softer air of melancholy around the cir- 
cumstances of his early and lamented fate ! 

Alas! of what moment to the Christian minister 
is the formation of connexions such as these. De- 
licate as the subject may be, and ill qualified as I 
feel I am to enter fully into its discussion, I yet 
cannot suffer it to pass without some observations 
on its vast importance. — By imprudence here, how 
many have injured their character, impaired their 
usefulness, and destroyed their comfort for life. 
Upon the partner which a minister selects much of 
his happiness depends. He must be indeed a child 
of sorrow, who, with a heart broken by disappoint- 
ment, and a brow clouded by care — such cares and 
disappointments as too frequently imp art a character 
of gloom to a pastor's life — finds no relief in his 
domestic circle, and seeks in vain for the soothing 
influence of sympathy in the individual whom he has 
chosen to be a ' help meet for him.' 

The important subject thus reluctantly, though 
unavoidably introduced, distributes itself into many 
branches, each interesting in its kind, on which 
age and experience might with considerable pro- 
priety descant. And however unwilling I am to 
enter more largely into the discussion, and though 
I feel myself deficient in both these qualifications, 
yet I cannot forbear reprobating, in the severest 
terms, that rash and thoughtless haste which too 
often marks the decision of students and youthful 
ministers in this respect, and which too frequently 
leads to settled distress, — final ruin, — or shameful 
infidelity ! To the honour of Spencer be it record- 
ed, that his choice in the first instance displayed 
his wisdom: his uniform attachment until deaths 
• — his constancy! 

Mr. Spencer preached again at the Countess of 
Huntingdon's chapel at Brighton on Thursday even- 
ing, January 5th, and left that place on the following 



110 LIFE OF SPENCER. part n. 

day. On the ensuing Sunday lie preached at Hol- 
loway, morning- and afternoon ; and on the evening 
of Tuesday the 10th, addressed an immense con- 
gregation from the pulpit of that truly excellent 
man, the lie v. Rowland Hill, at Surrey chapel. 
The subject of his discourse was Deuteronomy, 
chap, xxxiii. verse 3, '. Yea, he loved the people ; 
all his saints are in thy hand, and they sat down at 
thy feet: every one shall receive of thy words!' 

Between this date and the following Midsummer, 
his labours appear to have been, in point both of 
number and success, truly astonishing. He now 
preached much in and about London, and where- 
ever his name was announced, the crowd that flocked 
to his ministry, proved how extensive and deep the 
impression was which it had excited. Besides occu- 
pying many of the most respectable pulpits in the 
metropolis, during this period, he visited and 
preached in the following places : Guildford, Ep- 
som, ~\¥orthing, Barking, lioydon, Dorking, Bun- 
tingford, Winclunore-Hill, Saffron Walden, and 
Hertford. 

During his stay at Worthing, which was in the 
month of February, he made several excursions to 
Brighton, which became more endeared to him by 
every visit. The attachment was mutual. His mi- 
nistry excited general attention: multitudes pressed 
to hear hiin. The public prints declared their admi- 
ration of his powers ; aud the private circle forgot 
the trifliug topics of the day, intent upon the dis- 
cussion of his rare and extraordinary talents. More> 
especially did he bind to him the hearts of the young, 
by the warmth, simplicity, aud affection of his ad? 
dresses to them : and in no place which was honoured 
by his labours, was his worth more fully appreciated 
in life, or his loss more deeply and universally la- 
mented in death. 

But by so much preaching and fatigue, his strength 



chap ii. LIFE OF SPENCER; 111 

became exhausted and his health impaired ; and dur- 
ing- the Midsummer vacation, the committee super- 
intending- the stations of the preaching students*, ap- 
pointed him to spend some weeks at Dorking-, in 
Surrey, where the labour was but small, the retire- 
ment deep, the country beautiful, and the air salu- 
brious. To this place he went in the beginning of 
July, — -having first paid a visit to his family at Hert- 
ford, and preached again in his native town. At 
Dorking he was committed to the care of Mrs. 
Alexander, a kind and pious matron, whose hospi- 
table attention to the servants of Christ who have 
had the happiness to repose beneath her roof, ren- 
ders her worthy the appropriate epithet of — " Mother 
in Israel." The praises of such pious women are, 
and ought to be, in all the churches. Happy is that 
congregation which possesses one or two such valu- 
able and useful characters. To the youthful preach- 
ers who may be appointed to labour for a while in 
the congregations to which they belong, they often 
prove an inestimable blessing. By their timely as- 
siduities, not unfrequently, diseases the most serious 
and alarming may be averted, by which valuable 
ministers might have been early snatched from the 
church and ironi the world ; and, at any rate, those 
little offices of unaffected kindness, in the perform- 
ance of which they so much excel, will tend to 
sooth the anxieties by which, in early life, many a 
delicate frame is prematurely wasted and impaired. 
The maternal solicitude of this most excellent wo- 
man for the health and comfort of the interesting 
stranger, who had thus become her guest, deserves 
to be recorded. He had been overtaken by a heavy 

I rain, on his way, and was completely drenched, be- 
fore he reached her house. She sent him imme- 
diately to bed — ordered a fire to be lighted in a 
room adjoining the one in which he slept, and with 



112 LIFE OF SPENCER. PART H - 

night to dry his clothes, and to attend to him. So 
that when he rose on the Sabbath morning', every 
article of his dress was completely ready lor him. 
— An act of kindness, the impression of which upon 
his feeling- mind, was never erased. 

For Spencer too the spot was admirably chosen. 
Nothing could better suit his fondness for retire- 
ment, and love of social or solitary walks. I am 
not a stranger to the scenery — I once visited it, like 
him, for relaxation ; and the remembrance of those 
happy days, in a thousand pleasing- pictures, crowds 
at this moment on my mind. The country is suffi- 
ciently bold and varied to inspire ideas of grandeur 
and magnificence, though not so romantic and 
vast as to excite astonishment and terror. From 
the summit of abrupt and lofty hills, clothed with 
luxuriant foliage, the delighted eye may roam at 
leisure over woods and valleys, that will not yield 
in fruitfulness and beauty to the fairest plains of 
Italy; and in deep embowered glens, made cool 
and fragrant by meandering streams, the mind 
may yield to melancholy musings and to solemn 
thought — so unbroken is the silence, — so profound 
the solitude.* 

His engagements, his feelings, and the scenes 



* In one of these retired dells, where art has followed up the rude 
design of nature, a rustic temple, unadorned and simple as the genius 
of the place, affords to the weary wanderer its temporary rest A 
grateful poet has left some tributary lines in honour of the scene, of 
which they are so descriptive, that I hope I shall be pardoned if I 
introduce them here. 

u Stranger, whencesoe"er you come, 
Welcome to this rustic dome ; 
Welcome to the hill — the glade ; 
Welcome to the forest shade. 

To our simple homely fare, 
Come and welcome — banish care ; 
Climb our hills, and health inhale. 
Borne upon the scented gale. 



chap. ii. LIFE OF SPENCER. 113 

that surrounded him, are all sweetly depicted in the 
following letter. 



Letter XV. 
TO MR. GEORGE MEDLEY. 



" Dorking, July 2\st, 1809. 

** Very dear Sir, 

" It has occasioned me no small anxiety, 
that since I have been at this place I have heard 
nothing of you. 'Tis, true, indeed, that I engaged 
to write to you, but I have been expecting that you 
would have called here before now on your way te 
Brighton. 

" I need not tell you how happy I should be to 
see yon, nor what real pleasure my kind hostess 
would feel in entertaining you at her house. 

Bury in this wooded glen, 
All the cares of busy men ; 
While the streams that round us roll, 
Sweetly murrn'ring, sooth the soul. 

See. the glorious orb of day 
Gilds us with his parting ray ; 
Whilst above the woods afar 
SweetJy shines the ev'ning star. 

Stranger, rest thee here awhile, 

Till the morning sun shall smile, j 

Then explore the fairy scene, 

Lovely as a waking dream. 

Worn and wasted by disease, . i 

Pale and languid — ill at ease,— 
Say, does health thy care employ— 
Health, the fostf ing nurse of joy ? 

Come and chase her on our hills ; 

Meet her by our purling rills ; 

Woo her mid our shadowing trees ; 

Catch her on the balmy breeze. * :?: 

Health, and peace, and joy are here ; 
Come and welcome— banish care — 
Cease thy wand'rings — lose thy woes, 
Yield to pleasure and repose." 



114 LIFE OF SPENCER. part n. 

" Since I have been at Dorking, my time has 
been fully occupied by a variety of engagements* 
Preaching, walking, reading, and society, have all 
urged their claims upon me, and each received a 
measure of attention. [ have reason to hope, that 
the Lord of the harvest will bless his word, as he 
enables me to deliver it to the congregation. The 
greatest attentions are paid me; nor do I anticipate 
the day of separation from them with any peculiar 
sentiments of pleasure. Motives for humility and 
lowliness of mind continually rush in upon me, and 
wretched indeed shall I be, if suffered to fall into 
pride, — that " condemnation of the devil." 

" The vicinity of this town is remarkably plea- 
sant : in my walks I am sometimes led to see, how 
the azure skies, meandering streams, flowery meads, 
and rising hills, all shew forth the eternal power and 
Godhead of the Saviour by whom all things were 
created ; and how they ail serve, in one way or other, 
to recommend him, and set forth his unrivalled ex- 
cellence, while they acknowledge him as their sole 
proprietor, for " he is Lord of all? 

" I hope that you enjoy the blessings of his new 
creating power, and find that he who first created 
in you a right spirit, still puts his fear into your 
heart, as your best defence against every danger, 
and as your effectual preventative against depart- 
ing from him. 

M In your requests to the God of his saints " re- 
member me," that lie may bestow upon me such 
blessings as shall render me a lively Christian, a 
faithful friend, and a useful minister; nor would I, 
when I bow my knees before our Father who is ia 
heaven, forget to pray for you, to whom I am so 
much indebted, and who may well consider me as 
Your s, most affectionately, 

« THOMAS SPENCER. W 



CHAP. III. 

His Correspondence with Mr. Haddon. 

DURING his stay at Dorking' it was bis happiness 
to form a friendship the most intimate and endeared 
with Mr. J. Haddon, of London; and on the return 
of that gentleman to town, Mr. Spencer began an 
epistolary correspondence with him, which continued 
till his death. A valuable assortment of these letters 
has been kindly put into my hands, and with the 
greater part of them I shall enrich these pages. The 
following is, I believe, the first in the series. 



Letter XVI. 
TO MB. JOHN HADDON. 



" Dorking, July 25th, 1809. 

" My worthy Friend, 

" I know no other way of expressing 
the pleasure your letters and your society have 
afforded me, than by endeavouring to repay your 
kindness, or at least, by shewing you that I am sen- 
sible of the obligations under which I am laid by 
you. The pleasant interviews, the truly social 
walks, and the various other enjoyments which we 
experienced together, have left an impression of at- 
tachment to yourself on my mind, which I am per- 
suaded will not be easily obliterated. Hie country 



lift LIFE OF SPENCER. part ii. 

is indeed as pleasant in itselfnow, as it was the week 
before last; yet, believe me, it is not half so much 
enjoyed by me as it was then. — The same streams 
indeed glide pleasantly along- — the same hills majes- 
tically rise — the same enlivening prospects strike 
the eye, and pervade the soul, with admiration — and 
every thing around me seems to say, ■ 'Tis Surrey 
still i but there is a sad deficiency in all my peram- 
bulations — it is, ' that I am all alone.'* — Yesterday 

• This is a quotation from a beautiful poem of Henry Kirke 
White's, to whose charming productions Spencer was most ardently 
attached. The poem itself so accurately describes the state of his own 
mind, and the melancholy musings in which he indulged, in his soli- 
tary walks, when deprived of the pleasure of his friend's society, that 
I need not apologize for its introduction. 

SOLITUDE. 

It is not that my lot is low, 

That bids this silent tear to flow ; 
It is not grief that bids me moan ; 
It is, that I am all alone. 

In woods and glens I love to roam, 
When the tir'd hedger hies him home ;. 
Or by the wood-land pool to rest, 
\Vhen pale the star looks on its breast 

Yet when the silent ev'ning sighs, 
With hallcw'd airs and symphonies, 
My spirit takes another tone, 
And sighs that it is all alone. 

The autumn leaf is sear and dead, 
It floats upon the water's bed ; 
I would not be a leaf to die 
Without recording Sorrow's sigli ! 

The woods and winds with sullen wail, 
Tell all the same unvaried tale ; 
I've none to smile when I am free, 
And when I sigh, to sigh with me! 

Yet in my dreams a form I view, 
That thinks on me, and loves me too: 
I start, and when the vision 's flown, 
J. weep that I am all alone. 



chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 117 

I went to Brockham; but there was no Haddon to 
meet me on my way thither, or to return with me 
any part of the way home. Last Tuesday evening 
Mr. Moore very politely offered to take me to Ep* 
som, to hear Mr. Clayton the next day ; which offer 
I most willingly accepted. On the whole, we had 
rather a pleasant day. Mr. George Clayton preached 
on Matthew xxi. and 28th. It may perhaps give 
you pleasure to hear, that I preached very comfort- 
ably last Lord's day from the new bible, which is 
exactly the thing, I should know very little of the 
trials and difficulties of life, were I always to live as 
I now do. I really feel sometimes as if I needed 
something to quicken 'me to diligence, and put the 
graces of the Spirit in exercise, which, I am afraid, 
were I long to glide down life's stream so easily as 
I now do, would begin to die. Ease is a dangerous 
foe to the prosperity of religion in the soul, and 
opposition of some kind is essentially necessary for 
us who profess a religion which is described as a 



To these mild complainings of this sainted bard, a reply, character- 
ised by the same tenderness of thought and elegance of expression, has 
been furnished by the pen of Mr. Josiah Conder, of London. 

ON READING THE POEM ON SOLITUDE, , 

In the 2d. vol. vf H. K. White's Remains. 

But art thou thus indeed alone? 
Quite unbefriended— all unknown ? 
And hast thou then His name forgot, 
Who formd thy frame and fix'd thy lot? 

Is not His voice in ev'ning's gale? 
Beams not with Him the star so pale ? 
Is there a leaf can fade and die, 
Unnotic'd by His watchful eye? 

Each fluttering hope, each anxious fear-^ 
Each lonely sigh, each silent tear, 
To thine Almighty Friend is known : 
And say'st thou, thou art " all alone?* 



118 LIFE OF SrENCER. ^W "• 

race to be run, as a battle to be fought; and which 
is represented to us by every metaphor which gives 
us the idea of active labour and unceasing- exertion. 
I hope to have the happiness of frequently meeting 
with you after my return to town ; and I have the 
pleasure to inform you, that my appointments favour 
such intention. Mr. Wilson has written to inform 
me, that I shall preach in town for five Sabbaths 
after the vacation. The manuscripts you sent highly 
delight me. Mrs. Smith wishes me to leave Her- 
bert with her, to which I know you will not object. 
I continue about the same in my health as I was 
when you left me ; and am very thankful that here 
I have not to preach so many times as at several 
other places. That the good will of Him who 
dwelleth in the bush may ever countenance and 
console you ; that the divine Spirit may ever lead 
you into all the truth ; that you may possess every 
evidence that you have found favour in the sight of 
the Lord ; and that Christ Jesus may be your eter- 
nal portion, is my humble, earnest prayer. Let us 
hope hereafter to behold his face together, in a world 
where we shall be liable to change and separation 
no more, but where we shall be enclosed in glory, 
changeless as his own. This is the desire of one 
who can truly call himself, 

" Yours, most affectionately, 

" THOMAS SPENCER." 
" My kind hostess desires to be respectfully 
remembered to you. I expect I shall be in town 
next Tuesdav." 



Mr. Spencer left Dorking after the last Sabbath 
in July, and preached the six following Sundays in 






chap.hi. LIFE OF SPENCliR. 119 

and about London. The places at wbicli lie labour- 
ed during these six weeks were While How, Pell 
street, Jewin street, Camden chapel, Adelphi cha- 
pel, and Hoxton chapelt At Jewin street he preach- 
ed four Sabbaths out of the six, afternoons and 
evenings. In the meanwhile his health still conti- 
nued but indifferent, and indeed so much exertion 
both of mental and of physical strength was but ill 
calculated to promote its vigour. His mind how- 
ever seemed every day to grow in activity and zeal. 
In the pulpit, — in society, he was all animation and 
life. Like most who are the victims of much ner- 
vous irritability, his flow of spirits was excessive, 
which frequently led to ungenerous and merciless 
observations from those, who either had not the 
wisdom or the candour to attribute, what might ap- 
pear as levity in him, to its real cause. It is indeed 
an unhappy circumstance, when such is the natural 
tendency of a man's mental constitution, and from 
nothing perhaps have young ministers suffered more 
than from this. At the same time, it is a shame and 
scandal to the Christian world, that there should be 
so many, who, professing to be the friends of stu- 
dents and youthful preachers, encourage and excite 
this unhappy bias, for their own amusement, and 
are then the first to censure and expose the youth 
they have betrayed ! 

But where such is the natural disposition of a 
pious and devoted mind, its exercise in company is 
often followed by the keenest anguish and the deep- 
est melancholy, in hours of solitude and reflection. 
The severe and malignant censurer should remem- 
ber, that he is not omnipresent ; and that there may 
be scenes in the retired life of the character he in- 
jures, which would put him to the blush. These 
remarks have been suggested by some passages in 
the following letter. 



120 LIFE OP SPENCER. 

Letter XVII. 
TO MR. JOHN HADDOX. 



" Hoxton, August 15, 1809. 

"" My dear Friend, 

■* I am sorry to inform you, that it is 
not in my power to gratify yourself, to please our 
friends, or to fulfil my own wishes, by demoting any 
evening- in the week to visiting. I really cannot do 
it. My engagements this week are such as peremp- 
torily to require my continuance at home, most likely 
till Sabbath day, at any rate till Saturday afternoon. 
I am obliged to those kind friends who expressed 
their concern about my exertions. I feel that I am 
not worthy of their sympathy. May their compas- 
sion lead them to pray for me, that I may be strength- 
ened with all might by the Spirit in my inner man ; 
and that He whose pleasure it is to increase strength 
to those that have no might, would help the infirmi- 
ties of one who is weaker than a bruised reed ; and 
yet has undertaken an f nice, to the discharge of 
which an angel is incon.petent. My health is cer- 
tainly in a better condition than it has been, but I 
am afraid I am still far from well : my head fre- 
quently aches, and I feel a sickness in my stomach. 
These are some of the miseries that flesh is heir to ; 
but it is a joyful thought, that in the kingdom of 
glory our bodies will be no longer susceptible of 
pain, nor our minds of disquietude. Perfect health, 
composure, and joy, will be our happy lot when we 
see each other in a better world. And can we not 
hope that we shall do this, and that for ever we shall 
adore our common Saviour together I The lead- 
ings of his providence first brought us acquainted 
'with each other; and the methods of his grace will? 



chap ui L1FE op SPENCER. 121 , 

I hope, lead us on to glory, and in our way thither 
make us helps to each other. Pray for me, that my 
diligence may be excited, my levities checked, and 
my spirituality promoted. After all I say against 
the world, I must confess, with shame, that I am 
very like many of the men of the world in this re- 
spect ; that I indulge in a lightness of disposition 
which is inconsistent with the character of a Chris* 
tian, and makes us resemble those who never think 
of eternity and the solemnities of religion, Ah! my 
dear friend and brother, I have experienced in my 
short life many a bitter hour, occasioned by my own 
folly in this respect. But what a scandal is it to a 
professing Christian, that natural dispositions and 
surrounding temptations should overcome a princi- 
ple of grace in the heart — a principle which ought 
ever to operate powerfully in weaning us from folly, 
and making us every day more and more serious and 
holy. Never do you be afraid of cautioning, or re- 
proving me, but give me opportunity to prove that 
* Faithful are the wounds of a friend!' I have felt 
more, in reference to yourself, than I have ever yet 
expressed. More affection for you ; more gratitude 
that Providence placed you in my way ; and more 
determination to make you my counsellor and friend 
than I have ever yet told you. The Lord help us 
to strengmen each other's hands in his good ways. 
I shall not like your letters so well if you do not 
direct them yourself. This you will say is folly, but 
I cannot help it. Adieu, 

" Your's, affectionately, 

"THOMAS SPENCER.' 
" N. B. Saturday afternoon, if possible, I will 
see you." 



The history of the following month is from the pes 
of his most intimate friend. 



122 LIFE OF SPENCER. fart u 

" At his return [from Dorking] be supplied Jewin 
street meeting for a month, in the afternoon and 
evenings, where the attention he excited will not be 
easily forgotten. Before he left, numbers could not 
get admittance. The church were very anxious 
that he should settle among them,* but their desire 
could not be complied with. I have heard him 
blamed respecting that business ; but it was only 
by those who did not know the circumstances of the 
case. I was in the possession of his heart in that 
affair, and it would be unjust to his memory not to 
declare, that he was free from blame. His affection- 
ate spirit keenly felt for them in their disappointment. 
? The good people at Jewin street,' said he, in a 
letter to me, * have a strong claim upon our prayers;' 
and it was to sooth their minds that he composed 
his sermon upon Isaiah, chap, xxxiii. verse 20. 
The time of his supplying at Jewin street was very 
pleasant to me. I claimed the whole of his time 
between and after the services, which inclined him 
to enjoy that retirement which was so congenial to 
his holy soul. When going to preach no one saw 
him. — I used to knock at his door — give in his 
refreshment — and watch the time for him. — It was 
from the mount of communion that he always went 
to the pulpit, and this caused his sermons to shine 
gloriously. — Frequently in passing to the house of 
God we kept perfect silence, while his mind has been 
so entirely absorbed, that I have found a necessity 
for guiding him ; and after worship he loved to stop 
as long as he conveniently could, that he might pass 
away unnoticed. — But such was the character of 
Spencer — his deep humility — fervent piety — and 
amiable simplicity, that I am fully convinced it 



* The church was then under the pastoral care of the Rev. Timothy 
Priestley, a truly venerable divine, whose age and infirmities rendered 
the aid of a colleague necessary. 






chap. hi. L 1FU OF SPENCER. 123 

cannot be fairly stated without suspicion of exaggera- 
tion; andlmust confess, that I should have found great 
difficulty in giving fallen nature credit for the excel- 
lencies which, from the closest inspection, I saw* 
resident in that truly illustrious and holy youth." 

One Sunday, at Jewin street, his father and sisters 
were present. After worship Mr. Priestley said to 
the father, " God keep you humble with such a 
son." " Ah, sir!" said the good old man, " and 
my son too." 

The following letter, written on the Saturday pre- 
vious to the last Sabbath of his supplying Jewin 
street chapel, discloses- his feelings with respect to 
the church in that place, and will prove to the peo- 
ple with how much affection he wrote and thought 
of them. Nor will it be less valuable for the spirit 
of filial love and duty which it breathes. 



Letter XVIII. 
TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 



« September 2, 1809. 

" My dear Friend, 

" Truly sorry am I in any case to 
disappoint you, and yet it must be so as it respects 
this evening. — Before seven o'clock I am necessi- 
tated to go from home, nor can I return till late in 
the evening. You ask, ' can you not give up this 
engagement V I answer, this is impossible ; because 
nothing short of filial duty is the cause of my ab- 
sence from home. This morning I received a letter 
from my dear father, telling me that he must be in 
town to-day, although he has been travelling in the 
the country all the week ; and he wishes me to meet 
him this evening at half past six o'clock. This, I 
am sure will be regarded as a sufficient reason by 



124 LIFE OF SPENCER. ™rt "• 

you, and nothing short of such a reason could induce 
me to. go out at all this evening; for to tell you the 
truth, I am very unwell. My head and my side have 
suffered exceedingly for a day or two past, more 
especially to-day. Nor are my prospects of the 
morrow of the most enlivening kind. In fact, too, 
my spirits are very low. The sight of my aged pa- 
rent may perhaps revive them, and make * my heart 
rejoice, even mine.' Mr. W. has just told me, that 
he has informed Mr. S. that I cannot supply them 
any longer than to-morrow. The opinion of the 
committee, &c. goes against them. For my part, I 
can only say, ' My God, thy will be done.' You 
will see me at Jewin street in the afternoon ; but 
whether able or incapacitated to perform my duty 
there, I know not. Pray for me, that much grace 
may communicate to me sufficient strength. 

" Whether well or ill, cheerful or melancholy, I 
am your's affectionately, 

"'THOMAS SPENCER.* 



Having completed his engagements at Jewin 
street, Spencers labours became again miscella- 
neous and widely diffused. On Sabbath day the 
17th, he preached at Roydon, a village near Hert- 
ford, when he availed himself of the opportunity 
which this appointment afforded him of visiting his 
family. I cannot but conceive the bliss which such 
occasional interviews would cause in that little cir- 
cle, which had once the happiness to call him theirs ! 
To them, the recollection of those happy hours, 
devoted to social or sacred intercourse with their 
departed friend, must yield a soothing, though a 
melancholy, pleasure. Nor is the reflection less 
honourable to his memory, than it is consolatory to 
their minds. In the midst of the unbounded popu- 



chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 125 

larity which he enjoyed — surrounded by new and 
splendid connexions — the admiration of listening 
crowds, each eager to express his approbation — all 
ambitious of his friendship — he ever thought with 
the warmest affection of those whom he had left in 
that obscurity from which he had himself emerged. 
— Gladly did he seize the opportunity, when it oc- 
curred, of retiring from the public eye to taste again 
the tranquil pleasures of his home, and enjoy the 
interchange of all those sacred and delightful feel- 
ings, which strengthen and endear the ties and obli- 
gations of social or domestic life. — He was not 
unduly elated by his popularity. In his new asso- 
ciations he did not forget his kindred and his father's 
house. — His family did not sink in his regard, in 
proportion as he rose to eminence. The voice of 
universal praise did not drown the milder whispers 
of paternal love. — But in a heart whose best affec- 
tions were devoted to the noblest objects, and to 
which new scenes of exertion were perpetually un- 
folding, — the family at Hertford held an honourable 
and distinguished place. The most extensive public 
engagements, are not incompatible with the retired 
duties of private life — and the cares and responsibili- 
ties of the most laborious ministry may be sustained 
and discharged, without absorbing those affectionate 
regards so justly claimed by parental kindness and 
fraternal love. 'Tis true, that as a Christian, and 
in his official capacity, every believer in Jesus is to 
the faithful minister a father — a mother — a sister — 
and a brother. But as a man the relations of life 
exist for him — and the feelings of humanity must be 
common to him too. A heart from which these ties 
are rudely severed — is but ill adapted to that sooth- 
ing inQuence by which the office of the ministry 
becomes a source of comfort to the wretched ; — and 
a man whose bosom is a stranger to the tender sym- 
pathies of human life — alike insensible to joy or 



126 LIFE OF SPENCER. imrtji, 

sorrow — may with propriety administer the cold rites 
of a Stoical philosophy — but must ever be a living 
contrast to the religion of Jesus— a system whose 
characteristic spirit is that of the purest and tenderest 
benevolence. 

Before his departure for Roydon, the following- 
letter was addressed by Mr. Spencer to his friend. 
The observations at the beginning upon Christian 
boldness are judicious — and cannot fail to prove 
interesting and instructive. 



Letter XIX. 
TO MR. JOHN HADBON. 



" Thursday Evening, Sept. 14, 180& 

u My dear Friend, 

" I know you wish me to write you 
a great deal; but 1 must plead the old excuse — 

want of time ; for I find that , instead of 

calling to-morrow morning, must have this directly, 
and I have but this minute left the chapel. You tell 
me your '■ mind recoils from public duty, however 
plain and clear/ and you need not to be told that 
this is a pity ; and in this respect you do not display 
that Christian boldness which is, after all, consistent 
with genuine humility — which the apostles displayed 
and enforced — which the Bible every where recom- 
mends — and which is well calculated to evidence 
our decided attachment to Jesus and his cause. It 
shall be my part, however, not to reproach you for 
the want of it, but to carry your wants before our 
Father's throne, and entreat him to fill you with all 
holy boldness and Christian courage; whilst at the 
same time I would most earnestly entreat you to 
consider the foolishness of your fears, the little need 
we have to seek to please our fellow-creatures, or 



•hap. ni. LIFE OF SPENCER. 127 

to dread them ; and above all, the constant inspec- 
tion of Him who said, whosoever shall confess me 
before men, him shall the Son of Man also confess 
before his holy angels. But I am persuaded that 
you are not. ashamed of Jesus; yet there is great 
need for us all to ask ourselves repeatedly, ' am I 
fully on the Lord's side ?' because this very examin- 
ation itself produces the best effects, as it prompts 
us to give evidence before others of the reality of 
our hope, and it brings us near to God, who can 
make us strong- in the grace that is in Christ 
Jesus, and faithful even unto death. Your letters 
always affect me; your company, you know, de- 
lights rne ; and what shall I say of your attachment 
to me, but that it meets return. I am often indeed 
induced to believe that you are too careful of me, 
and too much concerned about me. Expressions 
of gratitude on my part from my mouth or pen I 
know you do not want, therefore I shall not trouble 
you with them. My mind is perfectly at ease about 
the present or future laws of the house, as well as 
about any situation after I have filled it. O that I 
may be stayed on God! I often think what a pity 
it will be, if from our friendship there should arise 
no good effect: however here I am wrong, because 
I am myself a witness that good effects have arisen 
to me; but I long that to us there may be opened 
fresh sources of comfort and joy in God, and that we 
may then be made abundant blessings to each other. 
—I am going to preach next Sabbatk at Roydon, 
a village near Hertford, where I have reason to 
hope God has owned and blessed my unworthy la- 
bours before. May he do so again. Perhaps I may 
go to Hertford to-morrow afternoon, as it was the 
place of my nativity, and is now the residence of my 
dear father, my sisters, brother, and mother-in-law. 
I could say much more, (though in the same feeble 
and desultory style) but you perceive my paper i^ 



128 LIFE OF SPENCER. part n. 

full. I cannot expect to see you at all till Tuesday. 
The coach comes into town on Monday evening-, 
about half past six. If I can, I will walk then to 
Fleet street. 

" Adieu, my dear friend, 

"THOMAS SPENCER." 



From this period to that of his first visit to Liver- 
pool, I am not in possession of any remarkable 
occurrences in Mr. Spencer's history. At any rate, 
i am aware of none which tend to illustrate any 
particular feature of his character — or are of such a 
nature as to warrant their publication to the world. 
."But there yet remain many interesting letters to his 
friend Mr. Haddon, which will supply the want of a 
connected narrative — and that friend who, during 
this period, enjoyed the most intimate acquaintance 
with him — and obtained a most accurate knowledge 
©f his character, has furnished me with a series, of 
anecdotes and observations, which will make the 
reader familiar with the man, and most strikingly 
exhibit the holy, humble, and fervent bias of his mind. 
For the present I shall content myself with making a 
selection from these letters, with such occasional 
remarks as may, be necessary to illustrate their sub- 
jects or occasions ; whilst the characteristic sketches 
above alluded to, will occupy some of the succeed- 
ing pages. 



Letter XX. 
TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 



" Hoxton, October 12, 1809. 

" My dear Friend, 

" With pleasure it is that I inform 
you, that X am appointed for Vquxhall. I feel 



cwAP.in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 12$ 

pleasure, because this assignation gives us another 
opportunity of enjoying each other's society. I have 
not yet written to those friends in the country, but 
intend doing it to-morrow. May the young lady 
die in such a peaceful and happy state of mind, as 
shall, instead of suffering the survivors to sorrow as 
those who have no hope, rather give them to say — 
Behold how he loved her! I mentioned the circum- 
stance to Mr. W. at the same time stating the wish 
of the Roy don people that I might supply them on 
Sabbath day. He told me it could not be complied 
with, assigning as a reason, that I was given out at 
Vauxhall. As the affair now stands, I am quite sa- 
tisfied, because I wish to resolve all my appointments 
into the will of the Head of the Church. — * Where 
he appoints, I'll go.' — Of all evils, I pray to be 
particularly delivered from leaning to my own un- 
derstanding, and indulging my own wayward will. 
May obstinacy never characterize me. May grace 
always be given me to suppress it when it rises.— 
To these requests I know, that from your inmost 
soul you will say, Amen. One of our fellow students 
has just delivered us a good sermon from — ' The 
righteous hath hope in his death.' — I enjoyed his ser- 
mon much more than I generally do those which are 
delivered to us on a Thursday evening. This was 
so experimental — so scriptural — so pious, that it 
found its way to my heart. May you and I when- 
ever we shall come to die, have a lively, a sure and 
a certain hope of reigning in life by Jesus Christ. 
Whilst so many are called away around us, surely 
we should recollect the uncertainty of our own con- 
tinuance upon earth; and as death is still potent, 
still inexorable, and still delights to surprise, let it 
be our chief concern to have an interest in the 
affections of the heart of that Saviour, who shall 
destroy this last enemy, and give to his followers a 
crown of glory changeless as his own.— On him may 
g2 



130 LIFE OF SPENCER. partii. 

we now both live by faith, that so when we have 
served our generation according- to his will, we may 
fall asleep in his arms. 

" Adieu ! Yours affection atelv, 

" THOMAS SPENCER." 



The young lady to whom he refers in this letter, 
appears to have been one of the seals to his early 
ministry, and then at the point of death. One of the 
letters written by him on that occasion, I am able 
to lay before the reader. 



Letter XXI. 
TO MRS. 



" Bear Madam, 

" Both your letters were safely and 
joyfully received by me. I say joyfully, because 
they shew that God is putting honour upon my feeble 
and unworthy labours, and making use of them for 
your spiritual welfare— a circumstance that gives 
me more real pleasure than any other circumstance 
possibly could. You are much mistaken in sup- 
posing that I neglected to write to you, because 
you had in your letters said any thing improper ; 
nothing could be more opposite to my ideas. Had 
this been the case, I should have felt it my duty to 
have set you right: but I can tell you what I can 
tell my God, when I say that I never heard or read 
an account of a young convert which appeared more 
satisfactory, or filled me with more delight, than that 
which you give me of yourself. I say this, not to 
puff you up with spiritual pride, but to make you 
more thankful that you have obtained mercy, and to 



chap hi. LIFE OF SPENCER. 131 

assure you that your suspicions of any dissatisfac- 
tion on my part are altogether groundless. Rather 
would I exclaim, < what hath God wrought!' and 
wrought too (well may I wonder) by his blessing 
upon" my weak exertions. Oh! let the glory be 
ascribed to him who gives testimony to the word of 
his grace. The excuse I have to plead for not 
writing to you before is, want of time and multipli- 
city of engagements — for in the Academy my time 
is not my own. I have just been writing a long 

letter to Mrs. W , stating my views, wishes, 

and hopes, for the welfare of her amiable and beloved 
daughter. May she be resigned to the divine will, 
and ready when the heavenly Bridegroom cometh ! 
From all" that I can learn, I have no doubt of her 
interest in the affections of that same Jesus who is 
now, I trust, all your salvation, and all your desire. 
When I recollect that she, a seal to my ministry, is 
apparently going to join the heavenly musicians in 
singing that song which no man can learn but the 
redeemed, it is impossible to express my feelings. 
I am very desirous to hear from her own lips an 
account of the way in which the Lord met with her, 
and a statement of the sensations of her mind in 
prospect of the last conflict. I wished to come 
down to see her — I asked permission. — This could 
not be granted me, because I was given out last 
Sabbath day at the place to which I am going. But 
I have the happiness of informing you, that the next 
Lord's day I shall preach at Roydon, and so shall 
have an opportunity of going to Thundridge Bury 
Farm. 1 hope that our covenant God is leading 
you in a plain path, and teaching you more of the 
corruption of your own heart and the love of Christ, 
by his Holy Spirit, All I can recommend you to 
do is, to be much engaged in secret prayer to him. 
Oh ! aim to get near to him in holy communion, then 
you will find a heaven begun below. You will have 



132 LIFE OF SPENCER. PART «• 

Christ for your constant companion, and yon will 
obtain the desire of your heart. I view this as the 
time of your first love. May the zealous affection 
for Christ which i hope you now discover, increase 
yet more and more. Live by faith upon the Son of 
God, who loved you, and gave himself for you. 
Commit your soul into his hands^ and the souls of 
all the members of your family. It is my earnest 
prayer, that you may grow in grace, and in the 
knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ ; 
that so I may have to rejoice that you received the 
Gospel when delivered by me, as in deed and in 
truth the word of God and not of man. As for your 
request about a settlement for me at Roydon, I 
should recommend you not to expect it : I am 
always happy to come amongst you as an occasional 
supply, but I must venture no further. I have a 
variety of reasons for not considering it my duty to 
settle with any congregation as yet, or even to think 
of it, and I have thus far not engaged to do so at 
Roydon : therefore I must request you not merely 
to check, but actually to eradicate, the thought. 
Wishing you — your respected partner — and all your 
family, the best of blessings, I remain, 
" Your's sincerely, 

"THOMAS SPENCER.* 



Had he then been sufficiently advanced in his 
studies to have cherished the idea of an immediate 
settlement — and had he been left to the free, unbi- 
assed expression of his feelings — there is no spot on 
which he would have fixed as the scene of his stated 
and pastoral .labours, in preference to a village so 
tranquil and retired as Roydon. He did not value 
popularity, except as it afforded him an opportunity 
•f doing good. No one ever was more averse to 



cthap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 133 

pomp or to parade. He loved simplicity in all its 
forms. It was indeed a characteristic feature of 
himself; and had not the prospect of more exten- 
sive usefulness allured him to a wider and more 
public sphere, his passion for retirement would have 
guided him in his selection of a residence for life. 

Talking with him on the subject of his health, 
which seemed declining, beneath the pressure of so 
much exertion, his friend said, ironically, — " Do 
you wish to be early laid aside — or do you desire a 
premature grave r " Oh no," said he, " you know 
my wish — to have a meeting in the country, sur- 
rounded by trees— occasionally to see the shadows 
of the leaves quivering on the walls, in the reflection 
of the setting sun. — A burial ground near, in which 
I and my people can together lie !* To live a long, 
honourable, and useful life, bringing many souls to 
the Saviour.- — This is the summit of my wishes." 
Though it was denied him to enjoy ike first, the last 



* May I be indulged in another extract from the poems of Kirke 
White? It was a passage which Spencer often read with peculiar 
emphasis, and seems a melancholy comment on his own ideas. 

" Beneath this yew I would be sepulchred. 
It is a lov jly spot ! The sultry sun, 
From his meridian height, endeavours vainly 
To pierce the shadowy foliage ;" 

" 'Tis a nook 
Most pleasant." 

" Yet may not undistinguish'd be my grave ; 

But there at eve may some congenial soul 

Duly resort, and shed a pious tear, 

The good man's benizon— no more I ask. 

And oh! (if heavenly beings may look down 

From where with Cherubim, inspir'd, they sit, 

Upon this little dim disco ver'd spot, 

The earth,) then will I cast a glance below 

On him who thus my ashes shall embalm." 

" Wishing he may not long be doom'd to pine 
In this low-thoughted world of darkling woe ; 
But that, ere long, he reach his kindred skies." 



134 LIFE OF SPENCER. part n. 

object of his desire, and by far the most important 
and dearest to his heart, he did possess ; for never 
was so short a ministry honoured by the conversion 
of so many souls. Every week, in Liverpool, dis- 
closes some fresh instances of its success— and one 
and another is perpetually rising- up to say — " By 
the grace of God I am what I am, but it was the 
ministry of Spencer that led me first a humble 
suppliant to the throne of mercy,"* 

The situation of young ministers is peculiarly de- 
licate and dangerous. The eyes not only of the 
religious public, but also of the world, are fixed on 
them. And it is to be deplored, that where they 
have a right to expect the greatest kindness, they 
often meet with an undue severity. Those who 
ought to be the first to throw the mantle of love over 
their defects, are not unfreqnently the most forward 
and exulting in their exposure. To an unhappy 
and inordinate love of scandal, many a fair and un- 
blemished reputation has fallen the victim. The 
scattered wrecks by which they are surrounded, 
should inspire succeeding voyagers with caution. 
There is a cheerfulness, compatible with the most 
fervent piety; and there is a levity, in which the 
dignity of the minister and the sanctity of the Chris- 
tian, may alike be lost. Where this is witnessed, 
whatever claim the individual may have upon the 



* Nor is it in Liverpool alone that testimonies to the usefulness of his 
ministry are thus occurring We hear of them from rari»us parts 
of the country where the providence of God has fixed the lot of many 
to whom his ministry was blest while in Liverpool. The Rev. Mr. 
Haslock, of Kentish Town, near London, was lately called to visit a 
serious man, in a consumption. In the course of conversation the 
name of Spencer was mentioned. " Spencer, sir," said the dying 
man, " what, did you know Mr. Spencer, of Liverpool?" " Yes." 
" Why sir, under God, he was the means of my salvation. I was a 
journeyman taylor, and used to travel from town to town for work. 
I went to Liverpool, and went with the crowd to hear him, — and 
there God met with me." The poor man, soon after, died, happy in 
the Lord. 



chap in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 133 

generosity and lenity of the spectators, he has none 
upon their justice — tbey have a right to censure, — ■ 
and however we may deprecate their severity, — none 
can deny them its exercise. And here it is perhaps 
that students are most exposed to danger. Fa- 
tigued and wasted by the close application and 
intense thought of many studious weeks, they enter, 
as they imagine, the circle of friendship, and instantly 
relax. Those who only see the effect, and are un- 
acquainted with its cause, hastily form an unfavour- 
able opinion of their character, and cruelly propagate 
the opinion they have rashly formed.* 'These obser- 
vations are not altogether inappropriate to the sub- 
ject of the following letter. 



Letter XXII. 
TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 



" Hoxton College, October 27, 1809. 

u My dear Friend, 

" The expressions of affection your 
last letter, all your letters, and the whole strain of 
your conduct towards me evince, greatly affect me, 
and you will find my feelings upon the subject in 
Proverbs, chap, xxvii. verse 19. Sanctified friend- 



* I remember a case in point upon this subject— the mention of 
which may not be useless. A student from one of our academies 
had been spending some days with a pious and intelligent gentleman 
in the country, who was in the habit of having the servants of Christ 
beneath his hospitable roof. On his departure, the gentleman 
accompanied his guest seme miles on his read, and in the course of 
conversation said — "•' I cannot forbear expressing to you, Sir, the 
satisfaction which I have enjoyed in your society. I must confess 
that I have been too often grieved by the levity of students, whom yet 
I have highly valued ; but whilst ycu have displayed a cheerfulness 
which has enlivened cur circle, you have preserved an uniform respect 
to your sacred office, which has secured the esteem and admiration of 
us all." 



136 LIFE OF SPENCER. part ir. 

ship appears to me to be one of the best sweets in 
the cup of life. It. is what the Saviour recommended 
by his own example, and what the best of men have 
experienced beneficial in every age. May this kind 
of friendship be exemplified in us, and may we mu- 
tually share in the affections of the heart of Him, 
who, ' having loved his own which were in the world, 
loved them unto the end.' To his will in all things 
we must bow, and in his dispensations, however 
contrary to our inclination, .acquiesce ; but, 'not 
my will, but thine be done,' is language which 
requires a large degree of grace to use in all cases, 
and from the bottom of our hearts. 

" Many eyes are indeed upon me, and much do 
I fear that they will see something in me ere long 
that will take them from me. Your warnings are 
faithful, but my heart is still deceitful, and Satan 
may, for any thing I know, be about to sift me as 
wheat. You are not ignorant of his devices. Oh! 
then, pray for me, that my faith fail not, so that in- 
stead of the number of those who behold me turning 
away from me with disgust and aversion, they may 
rather glorify God in me, and take knowledge of 
me that I have been with Jesus. The thought that 
affords me some degree of encouragement is, that 
Jehovah knoweth my path, and that he is able to 
make me stand, yea, to remove the suspicions of 
those who 'fear and wait to see.' But really I 
cannot help thinking that there are some people in 
the world who seem as if they wished for something to 
hinder one's usefulness; and who, by their too signi- 
ficant expressions on the subject, lead me to suppose 
that they would rejoice in such a circumstance, and 
say, ' Oh ! so would we have it.' And why? Be- 
cause then their clever prophecies would be fulfilled, 
and we should for the future put such confidence in 
their forebodings as to view them as certain omens 
of ill events. I do hope, however, that God will in 



• CHAP. Hi. LiFE OF SPENCEK. 137 

great mercy either keen me from the snares that lie 
in my way, or take me to himself. 

" I have to day written to the Kidderminster 
people, referring them to the Doctor, or Mr. Wil- 
son. I will try and be with you to-morrow by 
twelve o'clock. Do not be disappointed if I should 
not be able. 

" I remain vour's affectionately, 

* " THOMAS SPENCER* 



On Sunday the 5th of November he was appoint- 
ed to preach at Cambridge, in the pulpit lately oc- 
cupied by the Rev. Robert Hall, A. M. a name 
dear to genius, as to religion. The day following 
he spent in viewing the University. In a letter 
dated the 3d he says, " last night my surprise 
was excited by seeing that I am not appointed on 
the list for any place in town, but for Cambridge, 
I am to stay Monday over at Cambridge, to look 
at the colleges, &c. I shall think much of Kirke 
White;" and, aware of the respectability, both in 
wealth and talent, of the congregation he was called 
to address, he adds, " the Lord make me prudent 
and faithful; may it appear that he has some good 
end to answer by conducting me thither." 

He was exceedingly attached to the poetry of 
Henry Kirke White. He could repeat a great 
part of it, and frequently quoted it with great em- 
phasis and feeling. " And yet," said he, in con- 
versation with the friend to whom these letters are 
addressed, " there is a thirst for fame sometimes 
discovered which pains me. 

' Fifty years hence, and who will hear of Henry V 

" Well, suppose nobody does, and what then? If 
Henry has served his day and generation, and is 
gone to glory, neither the church nor he will be 



138 LIFE OP SPENCER. PART «• 

losers; and th<* bearing of Henry will be too small 
a consideration to be brought into the account." 

Public as Spencer's life had now become, and 
exposed as he was to the influence of every unholy 
passion which popularity might awaken, he \ et main- 
tained a close and humble walk with God. He 
courted solitude, and for the best of purposes. Of 
him it may be truly said, 'his fellowship was with 
the Father, and with his son Jesus Christ.' The 
holy and the heavenly tone his mind received in those 
retired hours, gave a peculiar unction to his ministry; 
and the knowledge Which, by deep communion with 
his own heart and constant intercourse with God, 
he had obtained, rendered his preaching- remarkably 
profitable to believers, and gave him a skill in ad- 
ministering instructions adapted to all the varieties 
of their experience. Of this, the following is a 
pleasing- specimen. 



Letter XXIII. 
TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 



" November 9, 1809. 

" My dear Friend, 

" Be assured that I, as well as your- 
self, have walked in darkness, and complained that 
there was no light. Fluctuations in experience are, 
I am sure, my lot, whilst my only consolation in such 
circumstances still remains — 'tis the unchangeable- 
ness of Christ. Oh! what is so calculated to re- 
concile our minds to the way our Father calls us to 
travel, as the recollection, that whilst we are found 
in it, Jesus is the same, and that to the end of the 
journey; and in every trying circumstance he is a 
present help. In darkness he will enable us to trust 
in the Lord, and to stay ourselves upon our God; 



0Hap.hi. LIFE OF SPENCER. 139 

yea, he will cheer our desponding- souls with visi- 
tation sweet. Seasons in which we experience 
darkness of mind, and depression of soul, are ne- 
cessary; they form the analogy between us and those 
who through tribulation are gone to heaven: they 
render us fit subjects for the illuminating and re- 
freshing grace of Christ ; they add a higher relish 
to the renewed enjoyment of the light and liberty of 
the Gospel; and they serve to prepare us for that 
world where the Lord shall be our everlasting light, 
and our God our glory. 

" Reflecting upon deliverance from such times of 
depression should teach us to say — ' Return unto 
thy rest, O my soul, for the Lord hath dealt boun- 
tifully with thee.' It should lead us to anticipate 
future favours, and rejoice that he that hath deli- 
vered us can and will deliver ; and since the day has 
dawned, and the shadows have tied away, we should 
most cordially adore Him who has been appointed 
to give light to them who sit in darkness,, and to 
guide our feet into the way of peace. May you and 
I ever enjoy the presence of Jesus, our best friend; 
share in his tender smypathy ; his kind reproofs ; 
his excellent counsels. May he be. our God for 
ever and ever, and our guide even unto death. 
Then we need fear no evil. If sensible that He is 
with us, we may pass through midnight glooms, and 
experience a season of great darkness, and yet look 
forward to a future time, when with pleasure we 
shall sing, * The Lord is my light, of whom shall I 
be afraid V Oh that I may be enabled to commit 
your soul and my own into the hands of Jesus a$ 
unto a faithful creator. I can now add no more, 
than to say that 

" I remain affectionately your's, 

" THOMAS SPENCER.'' 



149 LIFE OF SPENCER. rA ™ »* 

The next letter furnishes another proof of his hu- 
mility and diffidence. It was written the day before 
it became his turn to preach in the chapel at Hox- 
ton the Thursday evening lecture, which the tutors 
and students usually attend. 



Letter XXIV. 
TO MR. HADDOK". 



" December 6, 1809. 

" My dear Friend, 

"lam sensible that Mr. S.'s polite- 
ness * merits much of us, and if I must name some 
day for us to meet there it must be Monday next. 
This we will speak of to-morrow evening. I am 
sorry you have been so busy about so worthless an 
object as myself. I need not say, pray especially 
for me, that a divine blessing may attend me to- 
morrow evening in preaching before those whom 
you know I too much dread as hearers. — ' The Lord 
grant unto his servant, that with all boldness he may 
speak his word.' I trust your desire and expecta- 
tion of obtaining good on Friday evening will be 
gratified. My mind is rather more composed than 
it has ever been before, when I have had to preach 
here on the Thursday evening. How it will be 
when the time comes, I know not. Many eyes are 
upon me, and different, very different, are the feel- 
ings with which my brethren hear me. But if the 
head of the church gives"*each of them a blessing, 
they will I hope be satisfied. 

" Yours affectionate] v, 

" THOMAS SPENCER."- 



It is indeed much to be regretted, that any feel- 



«hap in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 14l 

ings but those of mutual affection, forbearance, aud 
candour, should be cherished in the hearts of breth-' 
ren— and such surely are the students in the same 
academy. But in the present imperfect state of 
our nature, it must be expected, that superior ex- 
cellence, while it is the object of universal admiration 
abroad, will, in too many instances, be exposed to 
the malignant glance of envy and of jealousy at 
home. And when the scourge of criticism is sup- 
plied with knots by these, who but must expect to 
smart beneath its strokes ? It is certainly to the 
honour of the institution to which Mr. Spencer be- 
longed, that its members for the most part knew, 
admired, and confessed his worth; — and if there 
were any exceptions — let them remain in that obli- 
vion in which is their best security.* But the solemn 
admonition of his early death, should tend to check 
the bitter exercise of that unhallowed sarcasm by 
which the rise of extraordinary usefulness or genius 
is too frequently assailed. In academies of religion 
and literature, where the avowed object of every 
student is, not his individual advancement, but the 
glory of God, a spirit of detraction and envy ought 
to be unknown. The most devoted and useful, 
should be most esteemed. Every private interest 
should be lost in the general welfare of the church 
of Christ. One may behold, indeed, with less con- 
cern, the strokes of satire, when they fall upon the 
arrogant, the presumptuous, and the vain; — but 

* " Those who admire and cherish rising talent, can have no bitter 
reflections when they contemplate the grave of Spencer. They 
hailed his entrance into public life, and strengthened his hands by their 
prayers and their approbation. Those w ho could envy him, (and such 
I know there were) must be covered with merited shame, when they 
behold him so early stript of those honours, talents, advantages, and 
successes, which exposed him to their jealousy and malignity. If 
these unworthy men were before me, I would ' speak daggers to 
them, but use none.' "—See Styles's Funeral Sermon for the Rev, 
T. Spencer, page 28. 



142 LIFE OP SPENCER. WW u. 

when talents are attended by humility — when popu- 
larity is connected with diffidence — and when extra- 
ordinary displays of genius are mingled with eminent 
piety, — to such an object the severity of sarcasm is 
improperly directed, and every well regulated mind 
must contemplate its exercise with pain. 

About this time his health again declined. A 
severe cold for some days deprived him of his voice 
—and he was compelled to rest one Sabbath from his 
public work. What were his feelings in prospect 
of that Sabbath, this letter will declare. 



Letter XXV. 
TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 



" December, 16,1809. 

" My dear Friend, 

■' It appears that your suspicions 
that I should preach three times to-morrow, will not, 
cannot be realized ; for Mr. Western, as well as 
those around me are agreed, that I must not go to 
Hertford at all, judging it dangerous forme to go 
out, much more so to preach. Yesterday 1 passed 
a miserable day. The thought of the pain of mind 
the letter I sent home would occasion to my friends, 
hurt me much, and I was much worse than I had 
been before, as my lungs and throat felt more in- 
flamed. To-day I think I am better, but still very 
far from well. I can scarcely bear the prospect of 
a silent Sabbath. I think I shall be quite out of 
my element to-morrow. Oh ! that I did but more 
firmly believe, that he who is my Saviour does all 
things well, and that he who sustains the dread cha- 
racter of Judge of all the earth, must do right. If 
I. am able, I shall hear Mr. Hordle in the morning. 
I have no voice yet. I hope it is not irretrievably 



ch a r. hi. 1AFE OF S P E N C E R . 148 

lost. I need not say, that if you can call this even- 
ing it will give me unspeakable pleasure. 
" Yours affectionately, 

" THOMAS SPENCER." 



Reflecting on tins temporary indisposition in a let- 
ter to his father, he says, — " I have reason to hope 
that the measure of affliction with which our hea- 
venly Father thought fit to visit me, has been made 
a blessing to my soul. It gave me time for reflec- 
tion and close self-examination. It gave a new 
zest to my feelings, and when it was removed, I hope 
I was inspired with fresh ardour to live for the glory 
of God." 

Amid the constant bus-tie of a public life, the 
retirement which temporary indisposition affords, 
must be most beneficial to a pious mind. Then it 
can relax into a calm and intimate communion with 
itself. It can quietly indulge in such a review of the 
past — and such an anticipation of the future, as will 
tend not a little, under the sanctifying influence of 
the holy Spirit, to curb its impetuosity — correct its 
levity — and regulate its principles. From the cham- 
ber of sickness, the exercises of the pulpit will be 
furnished with materials of the highest order ; and 
the beds of the diseased will be attended with a sym- 
pathy, which experience of similar affliction only 
can excite. 

The greater part of the Christmas vacation Mr. 
Spencer spent at Brighton, and on the first day of 
the yearlSLO, he preached at the Rev. Mr. Styles's 
chapel, to young people, from II. Chronicles, chap, 
xxxiv. verses 27, 28, * Because thine heart was 
tender, and thou didst humble thyself before God, 
when thou heardest his words against this place, 
.and against the inhabitants thereof j and humble dst 



144 LIFE OF SPENCER* pabt-h. 

thyself before me, and didst rend thy clothes and 
weep before me ; I have K3ven heard thee also, saith 
the Lord, Behold I will gather thee to thy fathers, 
and thou shalt be gathered to thy grave in peace. 
Neither shall thine eyes see all the evil that I will 
bring upon this place, and upon the inhabitants of 
the same/ 

The good seed which he was the instrument of 
scattering in Brighton, very rapidly sprang up. In 
a letter to his father, written immediately on his re- 
turn from thence, and dated January 12th, 1810, he 
says, " a young person who heard me at Mr. Styles's 
last year, was called by divine grace under my in- 
strumentality, and died before I went this time, bear- 
ing an honourable testimony to the religion of Jesus, 
and to her interest in it. Oh! what hath God 
wrought!" 

During his stay at Brighton, he had occasion to 
solicit a favour of his friend in London, the perform- 
ance of which was acknowledged in the following- 
letter* 



Letter XXVI, 
TO MR. HADDON. 



" Brighton, January 1st, 1809, 

r< My dear Friend, 

*■* However you may smile at the 
idea of my writing you * a letter of thanks,' I assure 
you I think you have a claim upon it, for you have 
done for me what I should have liked few others to 
have done ; but suffice it to say, it came safe to hand. 
Last Thursday evening I preached on Luke, chap, 
xxiv. verse 32, Yesterday morning at the Coun- 
tess's, oh Ephesians, chap. ii. verse 14. In the 
evening at Mr. Styles's; it being the close of th* 



•hap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 145 

year, on Exodus, chap, xxiii. verse 20. To-night 
I shall only preach* as one minister will commence, 
and another close with prayer. It is said that I 
shall preach at the chapel on Thursday evening". 
You ask me, where I shall be next Sabbath. Many 
advise me to remain at Brighton ; but it is my pre- 
sent intention to return home on the Friday, though 
I really feel myself in a difficulty about it. I hope I 
have, since I have been at this place, enjoyed the 
divine blessing — those with whom I associate are 
the excellent of the earth — with no others have I any 
occasion to be at all connected. In this respect I 
am like your good friend Mr. Hill of Westminster. 
We certainly do not in general sufficiently estimate 
the worth of the society of those who discover the 
mind that was in Christ; — great is the benefit we- 
may derive from their company. Oh! let those of 
us who fear the Lord speak often with one another; 
one may thus come at each other's follies, and sti- 
mulate each other to the performance of that good, 
acceptable, and perfect will of God. I think my 
cold is getting better. After I had preached last 
night, a valuable young Scotch clergyman, who 
was there wished I might live to preach many such 
sermons. — What could I say, but ' all the days of 
my appointed time will I wait till my change come.' 
It is a great satisfaction to know, that we are train- 
ing up for heaven, and ' ripening apace for the vi- 
sion of God/ Pray for me, that this perseverance 
may be given to me. You know my object is the 
glory of God in the good of souls — that this may be 
accomplished, by my exertions, is my prayer, my 
hope, my aim. Whether living or dying, may we 
be the Lord's. I have, however, at present no other 
idea, than that I shall be spared yet, and not die, 
but live and declare the works of the Lord:* Wish- 

* Alas ! how blind are we to futurity ! A clergyman not long since, 
H 



146 LIFE OF SPENCER. part ir. 

ing you the enjoyment of the good-will of Him that 
dwelt in the bush, and assuring- you of my steady 
attachment. 

" I remain yours affectionately, 

"THOMAS SPENCER." 



On Wednesday the 28th of February, being the 
day appointed for a general fast, Mr. Spencer 
preached a sermon at Hoxton chapel, adapted to 
the occasion. His text was Ezekiel, chap. ix. 
verse 4, * Go through the midst of the city^ through 
the midst of Jerusalem, and set a mark upon the 
men that sigh and cry for all the abominations that 
are done in the midst thereof.' The general scope 
and style of this sermon may be ascertained by the 
following extract from the communication of his 
friend: — 

"A minister said to me, ' I dont know how a 
good fast sermon can be preached, without touch- 
ing upon politicks,' — -*■ If you will hear Spencer to- 
morrow, I think you will find that it can be done.' 
When we, met again, he told me he had heard an 
excellent fast sermon, without a word upon politicks. 
I remember that in that sermon he said, * when your 
ear is pained with oathsand imprecations as you pass 
the street, remember that that swearer is your fel- 
low countryman, calling for vengeance upon your 
country, and do you, by ejaculatory prayer, strive 
to avert it. 5 " 

To enter into a minute detail of the places at 
which Mr. Spencer preached between this. period 



while uttering these very words in the pulpit, suddenly turned pale — 
his voice faultered — he fell back and expired. Little did the amiable 
Spencer think, that the hand which thus conveyed to his friend the 
pleasing anticipation of a long and useful life, should lie so soon io 
{he impotence of death ! 



e-BAP.in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 147 

and the ensuing vacation, would be useless. Suffice 
it to say, that his labours were unremitting — that 
he visited several congregations in the country — - 
particularly those at Hertford, Reading, Henley \ 
and Brighton. 

He was appointed one of the three students who 
should deliver the public orations at the coining 
Anniversary — hekl at Midsummer. This preyed 
with considerable anxiety upon his mind, and al- 
though one should have imagined that by this time 
he had become familiar with large auditories and 
critical hearers — yet we find him shrinking from the 
task-, and expressing many fears respecting it. The 
subject allotted to him was, " The influence of 
the Gospel on the spirit and temper." 
His colleagues in that trying service were, Messrs. 
John Burder and Stenner; and to these gentlemen 
were given as topics of discussion, " The doc- 
trine OF THE ATONEMENT," and " THE INFLU- 
ENCE OF THE HOLY Spirit." The day before 
that on which the discourses were to be delivered, 
he expressed liis feelings thus: — 



Letter XXVIL 
TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 



" Hoxton, June 19, 1810. 

" My dear Friend, 

" Consonant with your request, I 
here transmit to you the notes of the sermon on 
Eutychus : if you can, let me have them again be- 
fore I go into Lancashire. You mention to-morrow, 
and oh ! what anxiety do I feel in the prospect of it; 
already it has cost me some tears, it may cost me 
many more. Would to God that I may experience 
the assisting grace of Him who has before proved 



148 LIFE OF SPENCER. part n. 

himself able to do for me exceeding abundantly 
above all that I could ask or think. " If the light 
of His countenance shine upon me, then I shall 
shine in the sight of Heaven, and in the eyes of his 
saints, who know and can recognise the reflections 
of the Saviour's glory."* From what I can antici- 
pate of the congregation, it will be terrific ; but does 
not the promise ' I am with you always,' extend to 
particular occasions ? Most certainly it does ; then 
it takes in this trying service. May I have faith, 
and trust in it, and be favoured with an experimental 
confirmation of its truth. Believing that you do 
sincerely and constantly commend me to the kind 
care of your Father and my Father, of your God 
and my God, 

" I remain, 

" Affectionately yours, 

"THOMAS SPENCER." 

• This sentence requires explanation. It may seem as though he 
wished to shine before the congregation — But he writes in allusion 
to a wish which his friend had expressed in a letter written to him 
the day before, that he might " shine in the eyes of Him who search- 
«th the heart." In another letter, on the same occasion, he says, 
** Pray for me, that I may not disgrace the Institution." 



CHAP. IV. 



Characteristic Sketchet. 



WE now arrive at the period of Mr. Spencer's first 
visit to Liverpool. .Before we pass on with him to 
that new and interesting scene, it may be well to 
pause, and take such a general view of his mode of 
thinking and acting, while a student, as the follow- 
ing characteristic sketches from the hand of his most 
intimate friend, will furnish. I shall present them 
in 'a miscellaneous way just as they occur. Thus 
the reader will converse with him, — hear his own 
sentiments, expressed in his own language, and im- 
perceptibly become familiar with the man. 

** That passage/ said he, * is much upon my mind 
— « Let no man despise thy youth.' I understand 
the apostle thus : — Let your walk and conduct be 
such, that no man can despise thy youth* And 
such shall be my own." 

" He was favoured with peculiar facility in com- 
position. ' Many a sermon/ said he, ■ have I com- 
posed between Hoxton and your house/ His ideas 
flowed faster than he could write them, and when 
alone our conversation has met with frequent inter- 
ruption from his stopping to commit to paper, before 
they escaped him, the ideas crossing his mind. 
Turning to me privately, as I sat by his side one 
evening at the tea-table of a friend, * Look at that/ 



150 LIFE OP SPENCER. **«* "• 

said he, ' will it do V It was the sketch of a ser- 
mon, which he had composed during the conversa- 
tion. ' I don't know,' said he, (and those who sup- 
pose my friend was boasting-, did not know him) ' I 
don't know,' said he, * that for a long time I have 
fead time enough for any one sermon ; I was cramp t 
in every head for want of time.' His sermons at 
that time were sixty-five minutes to seventy-five in 
preaching, though his hearers were not aware of it." 

" In composing, he used to fold a sheet of fools- 
cap paper in eight leaves, leaving the last side for 
the heads of application. However long the sermon 
might be, he never wrote more of it; and in preach- 
ing, varied the sermon every time he preached it. 
' How do you obtain your texts?' *■ I keep a little 
book in which I enter every text of scripture which 
comes into my mind with power and sweetness. 
Were I to dream of a passage of scripture, I should 
enter it; and when I sit down to compose, I look 
over the book, and have never found myself at a loss 
for a subject." 

"His memory was remarkably tenacious; lie 
could regularly repeat every service in which he had 
ever engaged, with the chapter which he had read,, 
and the names of those of his acquaintance who were 
present. Returning from Holloway, after preach- 
ing, said he, * Did you perceive any thing particular 
in me this morning V * No.' c I was very ill in the 
pulpit ; my memory totally forsook me ; I could not 
recollect my subject, but having my notes in my 
pocket, I took them out and read them J ' I am, 
glad of it; I give you joy; you can no longer con- 
demn assistance to an imperfect memory.' * O no, 
I boast no more ; from henceforth I am silent upon, 
that subject." 



€hap. ir. LIFE OF SPENCER. 151 

" The young- man that has just passed my study 
door,' said he, * is fearful that he shall not keep up 
variety in his sermons. The best way that I find to 
attain variety is continually to ask myself, ' What is 
there in the circumstances before me, that will be- 
nefit my sermon on Sabbath morning?' for a minister 
should turn every thing into gold. And by keeping 
my eye continually upon that point, I am seldom at 
a loss for variety." 

" Few persons have held pulpit eloquence ia 
higher estimation than Spencer did, or in more con- 
tempt when it stood in competition with the interest 
of souls. I remember asking his opinion of an elo- 
quent sermon which he had been hearing — * Why,* 
said he, ' I could have wept oyer it — I could have 
wept to hear immortals so treated." 

" Your morning sermon yesterday was approved, 
but not that in the afternoon.' * No, I suppose 
.not, and I will give you the reason. In the morn- 
ing, when I preached on privileges, they were 
pleased; but when, in the afternoon, I came to 
duties, they remembered their treatment of their late 
venerable pastor. I particularly respect aged mi- 
nisters, and love to assist them, and generally add 
a trifle to the collection, when I have been preach- 
ing in behalf of a church which has an aged mi- 
nister." 

" He was much tried by the envy of some little 

minds. 'Mr. S.' said —to him,' You was 

very late, I hear, at Walworth.' ' Yes, Sir, and there 
you may see your own error ; you know you say I 
am too eager for the pulpit, now you see your mis- 
take.' At another time, ' Spencer,' said a person 
whose name shall be secret, ' Popularity is a dan- 
gerous thing.' ' It is.' ' No one is popular long/ 



152 LIFE OF SPENCEB. 'art n. 

* Very true/ 'You are popular now, but you will 
not be so long.' ' That I certainly shall not, Sir, if 
your toishes are accomplished; but I fully believe, 
that my popularity hurts you more than it does me.' 
The bell soon after summoned him to read (in his 
turn) a sermon for general criticism. The first per- 
son called upon said, that its merits were sjach, that 
be had nothing to say of its dejects. That senti- 
ment was universal. ' And,' said he to me after- 
wards, ' when 1 considered what had passed, I felt 
that that was a moment of gratification." 

** A lady, who had misunderstood an idea in 
his sermon, wrote me a hasty letter, charging him 
with antinomianism, and me with gross impropri- 
ety in hearing him. It was Saturday night, and 
he was to preach in the same pulpit the next day. 
I went to inform him of the circumstance, that 
fee might take an unperceived opportunity of ex- 
plaining himself. He held out his hand to give 
his usual affectionate squeeze, when I drew back. 
4 1 don't know how to shake hands with an an- 
thaomian. f An antinomian ! What is the matter '{ 
4 Read this proof of it.' He read it ; his pleasan- 
try subsided ; and with a countenance which spoke 
the feelings of his noble soul, ' O,' said he, « this 
letter does me good. — The attention of that congre- 
gation would have led me to suppose that they were 
pleased, and perhaps profited by what they heard ; 
and yet you see, that there were those present who 
not only misunderstood me, but supposed that I 
was a preacher of antinomianism. This letter does 
me good; for sometimes Satan claps me on the 
back, here in my study, and says, ' That sermon 
will do very well, and especially from one so young 
as you' — and then I begin to mount, and fancy that 
I am somebody ; but such a letter as this clips my 
wings — and then/ said he, with indescribable ex- 



chap. it. LIFE OF SPENCER. H5$ 

pression, ■ I drop into my place,— -the dust. Do 
bring me all the intelligence of this kind that you 
can." 

M One day, mentioning- to him an interesting text 
of Mr. Cecil's, preached on the last night of the 
year, said he, ■ That will just do for me to preach 
at Brighton, to conclude the services of the present 
year. But don't shew me Mr. Cecil's till I have 
composed mine. I would not borrow a single idea." 

" Preaching one morning at Hoxton, after he had 
prayed as usual at his entrance into the pulpit, I 
missed him; he bent forward for a considerable time 
so low, that I could scarcely perceive him from the 
gallery.- When I afterwards asked him if any thing- 
ailed him, said he, ' When I went into the pulpit, 
and saw that crowded audience, recollecting that 
they were all looking to me for instruction, and 
remembering my own youth and inexperience, I 
was overwhelmed, and leaning forward, implored 
more earnestly the divine assistance/ " 

" While preaching at Jewin street, he one after- 
noon took the two lower steps at once, in ascending 
the pulpit stairs. — When we afterwards met, I asked, 
' Did you notice the manner of your going into the 
pulpit?' ' I did, and thought that you would also 
— it was inadvertent ; but it was wrong. It did not 
become the solemnity of the place. — I never remem- 
ber such a circumstance before, and will be more 
guarded in future.' As a proof of the necessity of 
his watchfulness over the minutiae of his actions, I 
mention that an aged Christ an said to me some time 
afterwards, * I loved Spencer's sermons ; but there 
was a lightness about him.' — ' A lightness ! when ? 
and where did he discover it?' ' At our meeting, 
ift jumping up the ptripit stairs.' ' Did you see it 
h2 



154 LIFE OF SPENCER. ? AR * **♦ 

more than once?' * No.' ' Then I can tell you„ 
that that once he felt and lamented it as deeply as 
you could ; and I am sure that he never repeated it. 
Is not that satisfactory V * It is.' 

" Spencer followed Cecil ; he united deep humi- 
lity with true ministerial dignity ; nor do I conceive 
it possible for a youth to be less affected by popu- 
larity than he was; and as to flattery, if his flatterers 
had known the light in which he viewed them, they 
would have been silent. Coming from a vestry, 
where adulation had been offered — ' Don't fear for 
me/ said he, '■ on account of what has passed; it 
was too weak to hurt : my danger is, when those* 
on whose judgment I depend, speak unguardedly.' 
At another time, after a young man had been very 
lavish in his praises, (who had several times been 
guilty of the same impropriety), I told him I thought 
the next time he addressed himself to me, I should 
give him a hint of it. ' O no,' said he, '• treat it with, 
the same contempt that I do. To mention it, would 
give too much importance to his judgment. I 
would not have him think that his judgment could 
do any harm* " 

" 'This mode of life, and Mrs. Alexander's kind- 
ness,' (said he, at Dorking) ' is very pleasant to the 
flesh. During the vacation, the kindness of friends 
sometimes leads me to think that I am somebody. 
But when I return to Hoxton, my fellow students 
soon convince me that it was my mistake.' " 

I*. Spencer was particularly happy in his choice of 
texts for particular occasions ; * I feel great diffi- 
culty,' said he, ' in preaching at Hertford, where I 
have to address many who walked with God before 
I was born. To-morrow will be the first Sabbath 
that I have regularly supplied there. I have chosen 



chap. iv. LIFE OF SPENCER. 155 

for my subject, Romans, chap. xvi. verse 7. In 
which he shewed what it was to be in Christ ; and 
the duties which aged Christians owe to younger 
ones — faithful reproof and exhortation — prayer for 
them, &c. For his sermon on regeneration, he 
chose James, chap. i. verse 18, which, as he said, 
comprised the whole subject; — the efficient cause 
— f The will of God ;' the grand means used, — 
* The word of truth ;' the great end in view — that 
believers should be — ' First fruits of his creatures/ 
A gentleman, who possesses a fine mind, said to 
me, ' I had heard so much of Spencer, that when I 
went to hear him, I expected to be disappointed; 
but I found the reverse to be the case. When he 
gave out his text, it was with an emphasis which so 
forcibly laid open the apostle's argument, that my 
attention was rivetted, and I was perfectly asto- 
nished.' ." 

" He loved to improve the festivals of the church, 
such as Christmas and Easter, ' because' said he, 
' people expect then to hear upon the subject, and 
I think we ought to meet every appearance of pre- 
paration of mind with suitable instruction. The 
passage of scripture which led my mind to the mi- 
nistry, and which satisfies me as to the propriety of 
my engaging in it, is that promise of God to the 
Gentile church, Isaiah, chap. lxvi. verse 21. — Oh! 
that text is very precious to me ; while the death of 

Miss at Brighton, and Miss at , 

tends to convince me that I am right.' Those ladies 
died in the Lord, and were called under Spencer's 
ministry." 

" Returning from the country where he had been 
preaching, I asked his subject : (he was then in trou- 
ble) ' why,' said he, * I was sure that nothing would 
suit my own feelings better than this, When my 



166 LIFE OF SPENCER. partii. 

heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the rock that is 
higher than I. I therefore hoped it might be liseml 
to gome present/ He lived to know that it was 
"blessed to the conversion of a servant of the clergy- 
man of the parish." 

" ' I have never yet,' said he, ' preached a ser- 
mon which I had not felt, before I preached it; and 
I pray that I never may.' " 

" ' T used/ said he, ' to feel very much in preach- 
ing before certain characters. My difficulty is now 
removed by considering that, let them be as learned 
or as pious as they may, it is probable that they have 
not turned their attention to the individual point 
before me so closely as I have, and therefore it is 
likely that my sermon may afford some instruction 
even to them, and this thought gives me courage/" 

" Spencer's simplicity in dress was well known. 
He avoided in that respect the very appearance of 
evil, that his ministry might not be blamed. One 
Sabbath morning, when he called for me, he had a 
new coat on, which I told him I thought was more 
fashionable than he would approve. ' I did not 
know it/ said he, and on the next Sabbath morning, 
he asked me if I thought it more becoming then : 
he had had it altered/' 

" I was desired by several medical gentlemen to 
inform him, that unless he slackened his exertions, 
Be could not live to see five and twenty. When I 
mentioned it he said, * that it certainly must be 
attended to, for that his hope was to live a long and 
useful life/ He therefore determined to alter the 
length of his sermons from an hour or sixty-five 
minutes to forty-five/' 



«hap iv. Ln ? E OF SPENCER. 157 

" ' I am going-/ said he, f to preach at Vauxhall 
to-morrow, where you may come with a very safe 
conscience. You need not he afraid of a large 
congregation there. You do not like large congre- 
gations for me ; but don't you remember how much 
more encouragement and satisfaction the man has 
who fishes in a pond which is full of fish, than he 
who fishes in a place where he knows there are but 
two or three.' " 

" Before S. left the academy, a gentleman, whose 
judgment, or piety, few are disposed to dispute, said 
to me, ' If it were not for the sound of his voice, 
with my eyes shut, I could suppose him a man of 
seventy. He is ripening fast for heaven — I can 
fancy him an angel, come down into the pulpit, 
soon to return.' " 

" On one of those interesting opportunities at 
Jewin street, he had the following observation, which 
was deeply impressed on the minds of some present: 
■ The apostle Paul was a great sufferer; he enu- 
merates his afflictions, — yet what does he say of 
them? — None of these things move me. But when 
he speaks of in-dwelling corruption he cries out, 
Oh! wretched man that I ami'" 

M Another gentleman, possessed of undeniable 
critical skii), and difficult to please, after he had 
heard him, said, * I stood the whole service — and I 
could have stood till midnight. I felt as under the 
influence of a charm 1 could not resist, and was 
metted to the spot, intent only upon the fascinating 
object I saw before me.' " 

" It was with sincere pity that be saw any young 
minister descend from the holy dignity of his station, 
by attention, as soon as the service was concluded, 



158 LIFE OF SPENCER. p *«* » 

to the advances of females, who, had they really 
received the benefit they professed, would have 
shewn it in a very different way."* 

" ' When that excellent woman, Mrs. Davies, late 
of Kentish Town, was near dissolution, I took him/ 
says his friend Mr. Haddon, * to see her. She was 
quite overwhelmed at the sight of him. She had 
heard him not long before. In that sermon, he 
said, ' This prayer especially should be addressed 
by aged Christians to the Saviour, — Abide with us, 
for the shadows of a long evening are stretching out 
upon us. Oh! abide with us; for with us it is to- 
ward evening. She raised herself upon her sofa, 
and after thanking him for his sermon, she begged 
him to excuse the liberty she was about to take, 
but that she was an old pilgrim, just finishing her 
course, who had had much to do with ministers in 
her day. She had seen some promising characters 
rise and fall, and would just mention a few of the 
dangers which lay before him, — which she did in a 
most affecting manner. He wept much, and so in- 
deed did all present. She afterwards implored the 
divine blessing upon him, and upon his ministry .f 

* This is to Mr. Spencer's honour. Those who are accustomed to 
attend the vestries in London, after the sermons of popular preachers, 
will enter into the meaning of this observation. It would be well, if 
some, wham it may concern, would also take the hint it affords. - 

t When this venerable saint first came to Kentish Town, .it was 
utterly destitute of the Gospel She applied to the Coumess of Hun- 
tingdon., who sent her supplies. She took a room, held a prayer 
meeting — and persevered in prayer and exertion till a chapel was 
built. She still, however, had one desire unfulfilled— it was, to see 
a minister settled there. This she was permitted to witness in the' 
person of the Rev Mr, Haslock. the present minister ; and then, like 
good old Simeon — she departed in peace. Let her example encourage 
others. — Who hath despised the day of small things ? 



CHAP. V. 



Hfs visit to Liverpool. — He receives an unanimous call to the pastoral 
office. — Expresses his acceptance of the call, and takes a final leave 
of his friends in London and its neighbourhood. * 



MR. SPENCER was appointed by the committee 
to spend the Midsummer vacation in this year (1810) 
at Newington chapel, Liverpool, then destitute of 
a pastor, by the death of the Rev. David Bruce. 
The report of his extraordinary talents and amazing 
popularity had already, from various quarters, 
reached that place. And the congregation amongst 
whom he was, for a few weeks to labour, had some 
pleasing expectations,, that they might find in him a 
future pastor, every way qualified for the important 
sphere of usefulness, which so large and populous a 
town presented. But on the mind of Mi\ Spencer 
far other impressions had been unhappily produced. 
From whatever sources he had drawn his informa- 
tion of the state of religion and manners in this 
place, it was certainly most incorrect, and such as 
led him to anticipate his visit with feelings of con- 
siderable uneasiness and reluctance. Nor did he 
seem at all anxious to conceal the fact, that his 
coming was the consequence of a necessity, to which 
he was compelled to bow. So deep was his pre- 
judice against Liverpool, that it appears to have 
caused the only exception to that uniform submis- 
sion with which he yielded to the arrangements made 
by his constituents for his labours. But on this 
occasion, he did not hesitate frankly to assure a 



160 LIFE OF SrENCER. part n. 

gentleman, who meeting him in London, expressed 
a hope, that they should soon have the pleasure of 
seeing- him in Liverpool, that " it was not his wish 
to see Liverpool — and that, although the committee 
had appointed him to go, he should do all in his 
power to prevail upon them to send some other 
student." 

But a visit upon which so much depended, and 
whence such amazing consequences were to flow, 
could not be abandoned by a superintending Provi- 
dence, to the obstacles of his prejudice, or the in- 
fluence of his feelings. His destination was fixed 
— it was the voice of duty, and he obeyed. He 
arrived in Liverpool on Saturday the 30th of June, 
1810, and commenced his public labours on the 
following Sabbath. 

Mr. Spencer selected for the subject of his first 
discourse, Luke, chap. xxiv. verse 32, ' And they 
said one to another, Did not our heart burn within 
us, while he talked with us by the way, and while 
he opened to us the scriptures.' In the afternoon 
he preached from Hebrews, chap. xii. verse 24, — 
' And to the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh bet- 
ter things than that of Abel.' And in the evening 
from I. Corinthians, chap. xv. verse 25, ■ For he 
must reign till he hath put all enemies under his 
feet.' 

The impression produced by the labours of this 
Sabbath will be long remembered. The emotion 
then awakened has not subsided to this day. Every 
sermon that he preached tended to deepen the con- 
viction of his piety and talents — and to endear him 
to the people. His lively affectionate manner, and 
the simple but elegant style of his discourses, capti- 
vated all who heard him. Every sermon produced 
accessions to the congregation. The report of his 
extraordinary powers prevailed, and all classes 
pressed to witness them. The chapel soon became 



* HAP >♦• LIFE OF SPENCER. 161 

thronged to excess — and not alone the thoughtless 
and the gay, whom the charms of a persuasive elo- 
quence and an engaging- manner might attract, — 
but piows and experienced Christians sat at his feet 
with deep attention and delight. There seemed to 
be indeed a shaking amongst the dry hones. A di- 
vine unction evidently attended his ministry, and 
such were the effects produced, that every beholder, 
with astonishment and admiration, cried " what hath 
God wrought !" 

In his own views of Liverpool, tGO, a great 
change was effected by the remarkable circum- 
stances attendant on his ministry. The kind assi- 
duities of the family under whose hospitable roof 
he resided, and an intercourse with the pious part of 
the congregation, which they carefully promoted, 
tended gradually to weaken his prejudices, and at 
length completely to turn the bias and reverse th« 
purpose of his mind. The period of his stay was 
limited to five Sabbaths; but at the earnest solicita- 
tion of the people, he consented, after communicat- 
ing with his friends in London, to add another to 
the number. And in the afternoon of the last Sab- 
bath, he preached from Deuteronomy, chap, xxxhi. 
ver. 3, ' Yea, he loved the people,' in such a styl§ 
of endearment and affection, as seemed to warrant 
the indulgence of their warmest hopes. The last 
week of his visit was spent in the most delightful 
intercourse with Christian friends; and on Tuesday, 
the 7th of August, he left Liverpool, with reluctance 
and tears. 

The following extracts are from his correspon- 
dence while at Liverpool. 



162 JLIFE OF SPENCER. 'art h. 

Letter XXVIII. 
TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 



" My dear Friend, 



" Liverpool, July, 3d, 1810, 



*' I had a most uncomfortable jour- 
ney. The distance was so great, the company so 
disagreeable, and I so low spirited, that I can truly 
say, I never travelled in such misery before. When 
I arrived at Manchester there was no one to meet 
me at the coach. No one expected me. After a 
great deal of trouble I found out Mr. Smith's house, 
and I shall always feel indebted to him for the kind- 
ness with which he received me, though unexpected, 
and for the hospitality with which he entertained me 
till Saturday morning, when I left Manchester for 
Liverpool. And say you, what are your sentiments 
about that ? — I freely tell you then, that I think it 
is an excellent town, &c. &c. ; but I had rather any 
one should be here supplying than myself, and I 
long for the time when I shall leave for Hoxton. 

# # * * # 

" Depend upon it, if possible, I will set off for 
Jjondon on Monday, Jul) 30th; I wish it. were to- 
morrow — but perhaps I do wrong in complaining. 
May you enjoy the presence of Him who has shut me 
up from the society of my beloved companions for a 
time, perhaps that I might seek more earnestly after 
his own. 

** I remain, 

M Yours affectionatelv, 

"THOMAS SPENCER." 



•LIFE OF SPENCER. 1C3 

Letter XXIX. 
TO MR. GEORGE MEDLEY. 



"Liverpool, July 1 2th, 18 lO. 

M My dear Friend, 

" I am sure you will be glad to hear 
from me, and therefore make no scruple of troubling 
you with a line. In this distant part of the king- 
dom, it affords me great pleasure to recollect that I 
have, though far away, excellent friends who sin- 
cerely regard me, and anxiously watch over my best 
interests,— and, I am happy to say, you are among 
the first of my constant cordial Christian friends. 
Oh that both of us may enjoy the sweet friendship 
of Him who, having "loved his own which were in 
the world, loved them to the end." 

" I suppose you know,, that an unexpected scene 
of affliction was opened to me before I left town> 
and it still sends forth, bitter waters. 'Tis hard to 
see and to acknowledge that, whilst clouds and dark- 
ness are round- about him, righteousness and judg- 
ment are the habitation of his seat. We, alas! are 
too apt to murmur at the holy providence of that 
God,, who does as he pleases hi heaven and in earth,, 
and who will hereafter make us know that he does 
all things well.. 

'-' Pray for me, that I may be enabled to say, *t 
know, O Lord, that thy judgments are right, and 
that in faithfulness, thou hast afflicted me.' My 
journey to this place was most tiresome and fa- 
tiguing. I am treated with every possible mark of 
attention.. My preaching is well attended ; may it 
be crowned with the real blessing of our God. To 
such a request I know your piety will lead you to. 
add Amen. I may possibly remain here four more- 
Sabbaths: I wish however to stay but three,. 



164 LIFE OF SPENCER. 

-At first I found it disagreeable to have 



no old friends to converse with at this place ; but 
such separations are necessary, and, if sanctified, 
have a tendency to drive us nearer to the Saviour, 
the only source of permanent happiness. At his 
throne we may always unbosom ourselves; and 
when consolation does not come from our fellow- 
creatures, we must look for it from Him who ' is a 
present help in time of trouble.' How sweet is the 
thought, that his ear is ever open to our requests, 
wherever we may be, and that he can always supply 
our wants. Farewell, my dear friend; may you 
enjoy the choicest blessings a covenant God can 
give. 

" Your affectionate friend, 

" THOMAS SPENCER." 



Letter XXX., 
TO MB. HABBON. 



" Liverpool, July 17, 1810. 

«« My dear Friend, 

"I suppose you have been looking 
for a letter for a day or two past from your friend 
at Liverpool : so here it is come at last. I did not 
preach at Manchester, for notice had been given the 
Sabbath before, that there would be no preaching 
there the next Wednesday evening — nor have I 

been to . I saw no one from his house when 

1 was at Manchester, nor have I heard any thing 
from him since: most likely I shall not see him at 
all. In fact I have quite visiting enough among th« 
people of the congregation. 

# # # # # 



chap. v. LIPE OF SPENCER. 1(55 

" Here are some excellent people, very pious, 
and zealous for the honour of God, and the good of 
immortal souls, in this town. With some of them 
I shall be almost sorry to part. 

" Last Sunday evening I preached the. sermon 
for Hoxton; we collected above £40. The place 
I preach in is called Nezmngton Chapel. I forget 
the name of the street it stands in. There are many 
more dissenting places of worship here then you 
seem aware of. I am not yet certain whether I 
stay six Sabbaths. 

•' Mr. has written me a long and pressing 

letter for me to go ,to Plymouth Dock, which he 
says is just the thing for me— he wishes me to settle 
there — gives an exceedingly high character of the 
place. According to his request I must write to 
him soon, but I scarce know in what manner. It 
is a large congregation, and he says, that there is 
there ' a huge army of the soldiers of the cross/ 

"I will take care to get you a plan of the town. 
I hear that a fire has consumed Huntington's cha- 
pel in Tichfield street — is it true ? Dr. Winter has 
written to me, requesting me to supply New Court 
the first Sabbath in August. 

" The Wednesday after I wrote to you, I preach- 
ed on Psalm lxi. verse 2. Following Sabbath — 
morning, Colossians, chap. iii. verse 3: afternoon, 
John, chap. x. verse 9: evening, Job, chap, xxxvi. 
verse 18. The next Wednesday evening, Galatians, 
chap. iv. verse 7. Last Sabbath morning, Zacha- 
riah, chap. vi. verse 13 : afternoon, the same con- 
tinued : evening, chap. iii. verse 7. Monday even- 
ing, at the prayer meeting, I either go over the 
outline of one of the sermons preached the day be- 
fore, or else give a short exhortation, as at Hoxton. 

-" I suppose you know that I have written to Mr. 
Daniel Curling, but not to Mr. Brown. — For the 
feet is, I had rather not, I do not know how, and 



1*66 LIFE OF SPENCER. fart n. 

I- -do not see that it would do any good, so must 
decliue it. I am out almost every day. Oh why 
should people be afraid to let me be alone ; why will 
they not let me enjoy my much-loved solitude I On 
several accounts I feel anxious to get home ; and 
can now indeed say, * Hoxton, with all thy faults, I 
love thee still.' 

" Present my respects to all our friends in town. 
Give me as much intelligence as you can in your 
next: and believe ine still 

" Your sincere friend, 

" THOMAS SPENCER," 



Very soon after his return to Hoxti- n, Mr. Spen- 
cer received from the church and congregation at 
Newington chapel, an unanimous and pressing in- 
vitation to accept the pastoral office over thenu 
The call was dated the 8th of August, 1810. After 
near seven weeks deliberation, Mr. Spencer returned 
an answer in the affirmative. In what exercises of 
mind these seven weeks were spent, those who knew 
the peculiar circumstances of his situation can well 
conceive. On the one hand, — the unanimous re- 
quest of a people to whom God had directed him 
contrary to his wish, and to whom he had become 
singularly endeared-: — the imperious call of duty to 
a sphere of action for which his talents seemed every 
way adapted, in which his labours had been already 
remarkably successful, and which promised most 
extensive usefulness. These were circumstances of 
no common magnitude. But on the other hand, 
there were many powerful ties to bind him to the 
neighbourhood of the metropolis. His family — this 
best friendships^his most endeared connexions — 
the scenes of his early labours — all conspired in the 
prospect of his removal to so great a distance, to 



cmap.v. LIFE OF SPENCER. 167 

awaken the most painful and distressing' feelings 
in his mind. — And resolutely to resist the impor- 
tunities of friends, the value of whose society we 
fully know — to rise superior to those local attach- 
ments which long and happy intercourse cannot 
fail to form — and to leave the circle to which time 
and frequent interchange of sentiment have render- 
ed us familiar and endeared, for a land of strangers 
—involve a sacrifice which only the voice of duty 
can demand, or the prospect of usefulness repay. 
Y«t such are the sacrifices which the Christian mi- 
nister must frequently be called to make ; and whilst, 
on his part, they are with cheerfulness surrendered 
to the call of duty, and the cause of Christ, let 
those on whose particular behalf they are claimed, 
seek by kindness to blunt the edge of separation, 
and relieve as much as may be the memory of dis- 
tant and endeared connexions. 

I insert a copy of Mr. Spencer's answer to the call 
which he received from the church and congregation 
at Newington^ as it will .afford to the reader an 
additional opportunity of obtaining an acquaintance 
with its amiable author. 



Letter XXXI. 

To the Independent Church of Christy assembling in 

Newington Chapel, Xiiverpool. 

44 My Christian Friends, 

" Bein^ unwilling to keep you any 
longer in suspense than is absolutely necessary, upon 
the important subject of my settlement with a church 
and congregation, I feel it my duty to reply to your 
obliging and respectful invitation. You* are well 
aware, that I came amongst you influenced by the 
strongest prejudices against the place, and ireso- 



168 LIFE OF SPENCER. rAR * * 

lutely determined never to think of it as a sphere 
calculated for me. Whilst I was amongst you, 
however, several circumstances united to remove 
the strength of my prejudices, and, I trust, to make 
me determined by every appointed and lawful means 
to ascertain the will of God, and when ascertained, 
cheerfully to fulfil it, however opposed it might he 
to my private wishes and inclinations. A review of 
the partial degree of success Avith which my labours 
in Liverpool were honoured, does aiford me consi- 
derable pleasure, and I must say, that I .speak the 
real sentiments of my heart when I confess, that the 
manner in which you, my respected friends and 
brethren in the Gospel, have conducted this impor- 
tant affair, has raised you exceedingly in my esteem, 
and given me to believe, that a preacher would find 
among you as a people, those motives to diligence 
and those sources of real happiness in the prosecu- 
tion of his work, which, alas, are denied to many a 
faithful minister of the New Testament. 

" When I regard you as a church and congre- 
gation, I feel anxiously concerned for your spiritual 
and eternal welfare, and indeed earnestly desire, if 
consistent with the good pleasure of his will, the 
great Head of the church would make use oi' me to 
build you up in faith and holiness; but my motives 
for thinking favourably of your invitation arise also 
from other sources. I look at the state of thousands 
of inhabitants in that vast town, to many of whom I 
hope to be the instrument of conveying the * joyful 
sound;' my soul longs that they may receive the 
salvation which is in Jesus Christ, with eternal 
glory, and influenced, I have reason to believe, by 
the direction of my God, I resolve to preach among 
them the unsearchable riches of Christ. 

" I assure you, my fellow travellers to Zion, I 
can observe, with admiration, peculiarities in this 
dispensation which never before struck me m refer- 



CHAP.r LIFE OF SPENCER. • 169 

ence to any other situation. Oh may it appear, that 
this work and this counsel is of G od ! 

" Some difficulties must be met, and some sacri- 
fices must be made, by me, when I leave the scenes 
of my former exertions in the cause of Christ, for 
the sake of the people at Newington. But these are 
things which I must ever expect; these are circum- 
stances which I resolved should never move me, 
when I first gave myself to God and his Christ. 

" Truly believing then that I am acting under the 
direction of an all wise Jehovah, and humbly asking 
that this may be made manifest in after days, I ac- 
cept the invitation you have given me to exercise 
over you the pastoral office. — I comply with your 
unanimous request, and shall from this day consider 
myself as solemnly bound to you, if you see it right 
to allow me the following requisitions : 

° That I preach among you regularly but twice 
on the Sabbath, viz. morning and evening. I men- 
tion this, because I know that my constitution will 
not admit of three services in the day, and I am 
sure it is not consistent with your wishes, that I 
should prevent myself from future exertions by pre- 
suming on too much at firsts and the plan I propose 
will, 1 am persuaded, after trial prove beneficial ra- 
ther than injurious to the cause at Newington* To 
preaching to you twice on the Sabbath and once in 
the week, I shall never feel the least objection. 
My other wish is — 

" That I may have in the Spring of the year six 
weeks annually to myself, to visit my friends, and 
occasionally see other parts of the Lord's vineyard. 

" I do not leave Hoxton Academy till after 
Christmas, and perhaps may not be with you so 
early as you wish. — It is my intention, however, to 
commence my labours among you, if convenient to 
yourselves, on the first Sabbath in February, 1811. 
Your sentiments on the subjects I have mentioned 
I 



170 LIFE OF SPENCER. * ARi *** 

you will be pleased to communicate to me as early 
as possible. 

" And now just allow me, my respected friends, 
to request you not to form too sanguine expecta- 
tions in reference to the pleasure you expect to 
enjoy when I become your pastor. You will doubt- 
less find in me much to pity and to blame; yet it is 
my earnest prayer that you may never have to charge 
me with neglect in watching over you in the Lord. 
Finally, I request your supplications for me at the 
throne of the heavenly Majesty, that a dof>r of ut- 
terance may be opened unto me, that on me the 
communications of divine grace may ever be be- 
stowed, that Christ may be magnified by my preach- 
ing and my life, that I may be preserved faithful 
unto death, and then receive a crown of life. 

" Accept my cordial wishes for the prosperity of 
your own souls, of yourfamilies, but especially of 
your Christian society and of the cause of Zion 
amongst you. Cease not to pray solemnly, fer- 
vently, and without intermission, for me, and believe 
me your's in our glorious Lord, 

-THOMAS SPENCER.'' 

" Hoxton, Sept. 26, 1810" 



This official communication to the church was 
accompanied by a private letter to the friend, under 
-whose roof he had resided during his occasional 
visit, and to whose care the preceding document 
was addressed. 



Letter XXXII. 

" Hoxton College, Sept. 29. 

** My dear Sir, 

" If you wish immediately to know 
the purport of my enclosed answer to the respectful 






•«ap v. LIFE of SPENCER. 171 

and pressing- invitation I have received from New- 
ington, turn to the 22nd verse of the Epistle to 
Philemon. 

" I hope you will forgive me for the long, the 
doubtful suspense, in which I have been obliged to 
detain you; in my own view I have acted rightly, 
and I have no doubt but you will say that it was all 
proper, when you come to hear my statement. It is 
astonishing what I have had to meet with through 
the kindness of my London friends — kindness you 
will think improperly manifested, when I tell you, 
that they, with very few exceptions, entreat, beg, 
and request, that I would not settle at Liverpool, 
I can only tell them, that in this affair, 

' I hear a voice they cannot hear ; 
' I see a hand they cannot see.' 

And have the leadings of Providence lost their 
importance? or the direction of Heaven become 
merely matter of idle talk ? I have not written indi- 
vidually to any person in Liverpool beside yourself: 
I should have found a difficulty in speaking of the 
business before I had made known my determina- 
tion. By the first Sabbath in February next year, 
I shall (God willing) be again in Liverpool, when I 
hope the presence of my covenant God will accom- 
pany me, and his Spirit grant me wide success. 
The prospect of leaving my friends and connexions 
for so distant a place as Liverpool, and especially as 
many of them oppose the plan, sometimes fills me 
with melancholy gloom; but * Thy will be done' 
is a petition that well becomes me in my situation ; 
may I have grace given me to use it with a sincere 
and believing heart ! 

* ^F ^F $fc w 

" I trust it will appear, that the general good of 
the church of Christ, and of the inhabitants of Liver- 



172 LIFE OF SPENCER. part it. 

pool, is the object to which I have directed my 
warm and unremitting exertions. Farewell. 
" I remain sincerely yours, 

"THOMAS SPENCER." 

To this may be added an extract from a letter, 
dated September 1st, 1810: — 

" My mind still inclines to Liverpool, and that 
for the most substantial reasons. If I accept this 
invitation, I shall be obliged to make some sacri- 
fices ; but ought I not to make them cheerfully, 
when the honour of God, and the happiness of im- 
mortal souls require them i especially as I am bound 
not to count even my life dear unto me, so that I 
may finish my course with joy. The sacrifices to 
which I allude are chiefly, perhaps altogether, occa- 
sioned by absence from my friends and connexions, 
and a removal from those interesting scenes of ex- 
ertion which have witnessed my first efforts to dis- 
seminate divine truth, and in which I have been 
favoured with some success." 



Thus happily was a point of so much importance 
to the interests of religion in Liverpool determined. 
A consideration of the issue of this affair, together 
with many others perpetually occurring, should 
teach us to suspend our judgments of persons and 
of places we have never seen — and should tend to 
weaken those unjust and injurious prejudices against 
them, which we too hastily form — too tenaciously 
cherish. Often we picture to ourselves the most 
enchanting scenes, the most delightful associations, 
in connexion with a spot we are about to visit, and 
are disappointed — and as often we find those charm- 
ing scenes, and happy associations, in regions which 
our prejudices had invested with every thing gloomy 



« HAP v - LIFE OF SPENCER. 173 

and repulsive. Had Spencer yielded to the im- 
pulse of his feelings, he had never become pastor of 
a church in Liverpool. And although the memory 
of his lamented fate may induce, from principles 
generally regarded as honourable to humanity, a 
wish that he had not — yet the Christian sees in this 
the -hand of God — and, contemplating the mighty 
work which in his short ministry he was honoured 
to perform, rejoices that, however mysterious the 
decree, it was ordered so. It is not for us to cal- 
culate whether he would have been more useful, or 
less useful, or as useful, elsewhere — he teas eminently 
useful in Liverpool— and though all must lament 
that he should be so soon, so suddenly removed — 
yet there are none who witness the extraordinary im- 
pression which his labours produced in so large and 
populous a town, but must rejoice in their success, 
and adore the Providence which brought him there. 

Nor was it from the want of other calls that Mr. 
Spencer was induced to accept that which he re- 
ceived from Liverpool. Many were the churches 
which desired to enjoy his valuable ministry. 
Amongst others, the following places may be named, 
— Kidderminster, Kentish Town, Jewin street. 
Worthing, Southampton, and Tonbridge Chapel. 

This last-mentioned chapel is a recently erected 
building, in the New Road leading from Pentonville 
to Paddington, near London — in a populous, re- 
spectable, and increasing neighbourhood. During 
its erection, an impression was encouraged, both on 
Mr. Spencer's mind and that of the surrounding in- 
habitants, that he would probably be the preacher. 
The idea was not at all unpleasant to him. In most 
respects the arrangement met his wishes; and he 
had even laid the plan on which he resolved to act, 
provided his expectations had been realized. He 
purposed to reside a few miles out of town, to pre- 
vent the dissipation of his time, and to come to 



174 LIFE OF SPE"NCER. 'art "• 

London on certain days to visit his people. He 
expected much gratification from the neighbourhood 
of his friend and fellow-student, the Rev. S. Has- 
lock, minister of Kentish Town chapel, with whom 
he hoped to unite in plans of usefulness for their 
vicinity. But circumstances did not conspire to call 
into exercise those judicious and benevolent design*. 

The chapel was opened early in November, 1810; 
and on Sunday, the 18th, he preached his first ser- 
mon there. It was in allusion to its recent opening, 
founded on Hebrews, chap. x. ver. 19 — 22. After 
the congregation was dismissed, he went over the 
whole building, the plan of which pleased him much. 
He was particularly delighted with the deep front 
gallery, which, by exhibiting a multitude of atten- 
tive faces, encouraged him, he said, in his preaching. 
In that chapel he frequently addressed large and 
deeply interested auditories, and in that pulpit a 
public tribute of respect was paid to his memory in 
a funeral sermon, delivered by the Rev. Rich. Slate, 
minister of Stand, near Manchester.* 

From the period of his acceptance of the call to 
Liverpool, till February, 1811, when he actually 
entered on the pastoral office there, his time was 
wholly occupied in the diligent pursuit of his 
studies, and the labours of the pulpit. Not a Sab- 
bath passed, but witnessed twice or thrice his faith- 
ful publication of the Gospel of peace. On Sunday, 
the 26th of August, he re-visited Dorking — a spot 
endeared to him by the beauty of its scenery — but 
more by the memory of those happy hours which 



* Mr. Slate was formerly a fellow- student with Mr. Spencer. He 
•was supplying the pulpit at Tonbridge chapel in the autumn of 1811, 
the period ol Mr. Spencer"s death. His discourse is founded on John, 
chap. v. verse 35, ' He was a burning and a shining light.' It was 
afterwards published — and has readied a second edition. The senti- 
ments it breathes are honourable to the author's character as a man, 
& Christian, and a friend. 



•hap.t. LIFE OF SPENCER. 175 

introduced him to the knowledge and esteem of a 
most beloved and valued friend. 

The first Sabbath in November he spent at Brigh- 
ton, where he preached three times in the pulpit of 
the Rev. Mr. (now Dr.) Styles. 

Returning to towu, he continued preaching in 
and about London till the close of the year, when 
he again visited Brighton, at which place he entered 
on the year 1811 — the last of his life. 

In what way his mind was exercised during this 
period — and how his principles as a Christian tri- 
umphed over his feelings as a man in the prospect 
of a long and painful separation from those he loved 
— may be seen by the following letters. 



Letter XXXIII. 
TO MR. NICHOLAS HURRY. 



" My dear Sir, 

" 1 have thankfully to acknowledge 
the receipt of your kind letter. I am grieved to 
hear that sickness has entered your habitation, and 
sorrow oppressed the heart of your valuable partner. 
Oh may you find, that Jehovah mingles mercy with 
judgment, and that he doth not afflict willingly, nor 
grieve the children of men. Pray earnestly, my 
dear Sir, for a spirit of resignation to the will of 
God, and confidence in the disposal of him who 
must do right. * What I do,' says our best Friend, 
' thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know here- 
after.' Oh for faith in his wisdom and his care! lam 
ill qualified to suggest much that will be of use to 
you in your present trial ; and I hope you have 
proved before now the sympathy of the Saviour, 
who feels with his people in all their sorrows, and 
whose strong arm can support them in every trial : 



176 LIFE OF SPENCER. farti-i. 

thus your experience will lead you afresh to apply 
to him now, and to repose your confidence in him 
ibr ever. 

" Take care that you mention to Mrs. H. the 
stability of the covenant of grace, which remains 
still rich in its treasures, and secure in its blessings, 
though our comforts fail us, and our hope decays. 
Tell her that Christ lives still, and that he lives for 
her as a believer in him, and that no affliction can 
separate from his love. Tell her, that in all these 
dispensations he has kind ends to answer, which, if 
we do not discover on this side eternity, we shall 
know well, and gratefully acknowledge, when we 
enter that holy, that large family above, where nei- 
ther disease nor death ever approach. I earnestly 
desire, I would frequently pray, that she may have 
grace to commit the child into the hands of Christ, 
who once said, of such is tite kingdom of heaven : 
and should it be his holy will to remove this darling 
of your heart to his own arms in glory, may she and 
you, still taught by divine grace, and supported by 
divine love, say — i" was dumb, and opened not my 
mouth because thou didst it. God can teach us to 
adore and bless, even for dispensations which we 
cannot understand. 

" My own mind is now often painfully exercised 
by the idea of leaving the society of those who have 
possessed a large share of my heart, for a place so. 
distant as Liverpool. On this subject I have felt 
more than I can possibly express. Pray for me, 
that I may be enabled to commit myself, and those 
I love, unto the kind care of our Father in heaven. 

" For the present farewell : present my respects 
to our friends, and believe me sincerely your's, 

« THOMAS SPENCER." 



cffAP. v. LIFE OP SPENCER. J77 

Letter XXXIV. 
TO MR. WILLIAM HARRIS. 



" Hoxton, December, S, 1810. 

*■ My dear Sir, 

" I am persuaded that you will ex- 
cuse my neglecting to write to you so long, when you 
recollect that the liope I daily entertained of seeing 
you in town appeared to represent my troubling 
you with an epistle as unnecessary. I am extremely 
pleased to hear of the increase and welfare of your 
family; I cannot but feel an interest in their pros- 
perity and happiness : may the Lord pour his Spirit 
■upon your seed, and his blessing upon your off- 
spring, that they may spring up as among the grass, 
as zmllows by the water courses. I suppose I need 
not inform you, that I anticipate my journey to 
Liverpool with mingled emotions of mind. The 
idea of a long and painful separation from my con- 
nexions does certainly at times overwhelm me with 
melancholy gloom ; I have not yet learned to con- 
quer my feelings, nor am I particularly eminent for 
philosophic heroism. The idea that I am going 
where divine Providence has directed me,* does 
occasionally impart to me a strong consolation ; 
may my wishes as to extensive usefulness among 
you be answered; may they be exceeded in the 
prosperity of the church and congregation, and in 
the increase of spirituality and holy enjoyment in 
my own soul. 

• In a letter to his friend Mr. Haddon, about that time, he also 
writes, " I am sometimes overwhelmed with the idea of parting from 
my friends for so great a distance. Yet I am sure it is my duty to 
go ; nor could I be happy any where but where I believed I was 
executing the will of my glorious Head, for whom I hope I can say, 
I am willing to suffer the loss of all things. Pray for me that the 
will of Heaven may be my will ; and for yourself, that you may be 
resigned to his wise dispensations, and ever rejoice in them." 

i2 



178 LIFE OF SPENCER. * Mfcrn, 

" I am glad you are successful in getting accept- 
able supplies: this is a point which should be at- 
tended to. I should like the congregation to have 
the best of preachers. My books, &c. I must send 
from London before Christmas day, that I may have 
no trouble with them after my return from Brighton. 

" I am extremely happy in the prospect of being 
with your family on my first entrance into Liverpool: 
it will be far superior to my being with strangers. 
This half year has been a trying one as to preach- 
ing engagements, both on Sabbaths and on week 
days. I continue supplying Hoxton, and the new 
chapel, SomersTown, till Christmas: the day after 
Christmas day I hope to go to Brighton, to stay 
there three Sabbaths, and to return on the 17th of 
January, to supply Roydon, and Hertford, the next 
week ; and the last Sabbath in January, to take my 
leave of this part of the kingdom by two sermons at 
Hoxton. 

TT TV* *7V* "fl? TV 

" Tell our friends at Newington chapel that I am 
tolerably well, and wish to be kindly remembered to 
them. Farewell, my valued friend. 
" I am sincerely yours, 

« THOMAS SPENCER." 



The purposes expressed in this letter were ac- 
complished according to the order in which they are 
stated. He visited Brighton, and preached on the 
last Sabbath of the old year three times, at Mr. 
Styles's chapel — in the evening a sermon adapted 
to the season, from I. John, chap. ii. verse 17, ' And 
the world passeth away, and the lust thereof; but he 
that doeth the will of God abideth for ever.' On 



Ctakp.v. LIFE OF SPENCER. 179 

the evening of the 1 st of January, 1811, he preached 
an appropriate discourse at the Countess of Hun- 
tingdon's chapel ; and on the following" Thursday, 
and three times on the Sunday, he preached at Mr. 
Styles's. On the Monday evening, being the first 
Monday in the month, the missionary prayer meet- 
ing was held at Brighton, when he delivered a most 
animated and impressive address from Matthew, 
chap. xiii. ver. 16, 17, ' Blessed are your eyes, for 
they see, and your ears, for they hear; for verily I 
say unto you, that many prophets and righteous 
men have desired to see those things which ye see, 
and have not seen them ; and to hear those things 
which ye hear, and have not heard them.' He con- 
tinued another Sabbath in Brighton, and left that 
place some time in the following week. Passing 
through London, he went into Hertfordshire. On 
Sunday, January the 20th, he preached at Boydon, 
morning and afternoon, and at Hoddesdon in the 
evening. On the Tuesday evening he preached at 
Hertford, and slept again under his paternal roof. 
On Wednesday evening he preached at Stansted, 
and on Thursday evening again at Hertford. This 
was, I believe, his last visit to his native town, and 
to his father's house ! The separation which then 
again took place between himself and his beloved 
family was final. — The farewell which he bade to the 
scenes of his infancy and childhood was eternal! I 
cannot suppress the melancholy feeling which this 
reflection has awakened in my mind. I am arrived 
at length upon the eve of a mournful detail, which 
all along I have anticipated with emotions of dis- 
tress. Alas ! that one so useful should be so soon 
removed ! And that ere we enter on the solemn 
engagements of his pastoral life, we should be com- 
pelled to notice circumstances so closely connected 
with his death ! 

The following Sabbath January 27th, was the last 



|80' EJFE OF SPENCER. partii. 

he spent in London. On that day he preached in 
the morning at Hoxton chapel, from Philippians, 
chap. iii. vers 8, * Yea, doubtless, and I count all 
things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge 
of Christ Jesus my Lord.' And in the evening at 
Tonbridge chapel, from II. Corinthians, chap. iv. 
verse 3, ' But if our Gospel be hid, it is hid to them 
that are lost.' The labours of this Sabbath com- 
pleted his engagements at Hoxton and Tonbridge 
chapels; but on the evening of the following day 
(Monday) he took an affectionate leave of his be- 
loved friends — the constituents — the tutors — the 
students — and the congregation at Hoxton, from 
the pulpit of that chapel. The crowd that pressed 
to hear his last sermon (for so it proved) in London 
was immense. One common sentiment of attach- 
ment and grief seemed to pervade the assembly. 
A friend charged him on that occasion not to play 
upon the passions. Not that he was in the habit of 
doing this ; but there appeared on this occasion a 
probability that he might. To that suggestion he 
replied — that " neither his feelings nor his con- 
science would admit of such trifling/' He addressed 
the people on this interesting occasion from those 
memorable words of Paul — Acts, chap. xx. verse 
24, '■ But none of these things move me, neither 
count I my life dear unto me, so that I may finish 
my course with joy, and the ministry which I have 
received of the Lord Jesus." 

Thus were Spencer's labours in the metropolis 
closed for ever — labours — the renewal of which 
thousands anticipated with delight. But he was- 
ripening fast for glory — and rapidly advancing to 
the termination of his course. Yea, the impression 
of his excellence — the feeling of regret at his de- 
parture was yet strong and lively in the hearts of 
many, when the tidings of his death shed a deeper 
sorrow through the scenes and circles which he had 



chap. v. Lip E op SPENCER. 181 

edified by his public instructions, or enlivened by his 
private friendship. 

It was on the 28th of January that Mr. Spencer 
preached his farewell sermon at Hoxton chapel — 
and it was on the 15th of August, in the same year, 
in the same pulpit — and to nearly the same congre- 
gation — that his funeral sermon was delivered by 
the Rev. Henry Forster Burder, one of the tutors 
of the academy. In that discourse, a just and ele- 
gant tribute was paid to the mingled piety and talent 
which formed the charm of his ministry. JProm the 
known endowments of the preacher, and from the 
opportunities which he enjoyed of obtaining a correct 
estimate of Mr. Spencer's powers, that tribute must 
derive considerable propriety and force : and as it 
chiefly regards his ministerial labours in London, I 
shall close these imperfect memoirs of them with an 
extract from it. 

'? During the last two years of our valuable 
friend's residence at Hoxton, he was very frequently 
engaged in preaching in London and its vicinity. 
As this chapel has been, on many occasions, the 
scene of his labours, and has been often thronged 
with the multitudes attracted by his abilities and 
piety, I need scarcely attempt an estimate of his 
pulpit talents. That they were eminent — that they 
were brilliant — that they were captivating — will not, 
I think, be denied by any who witnessed their exhi- 
bition. He undoubtedly displayed no small degree 
of pulpit eloquence, and his eloquence was distin- 
guished by characteristic features. It was not the 
kind of eloquence in which a youth of genius might 
be expected most to excel, and of which luxuriance 
of imagination constitutes the chief attraction ; it 
was not a peculiar vivacity of fancy,, which gave life 
to his addresses, although in this respect they were 
not deficient ; but they rather owed their effect to 
the energy and animation infused by the ardour of 



182 LIFE OF SPENCER. part 11. 

his soul, and to the unaffected fervour of his reli- 
gious feelings, the impression of which was aided 
by no small advantages of person, voice, and elocu- 
tion. In endeavouring rightly to appreciate his 
qualifications for the duties of the Christian ministry, 
I must not omit to notice the truly edifying manner 
in which he conducted the devotional exercises of 
the pulpit. His gift in prayer was peculiarly excel- 
lent. The language of his petitions seemed to 
breathe the ardent aspirations of a heart alive to 
God, and accustomed to enjoy fellowship with the 
Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ."* 

That he was maturing fast for the enjoyment of 
his reward, even when he left London to commence 
his pastoral engagements, is a conviction indelibly 
impressed upon the minds of those who were ac- 
customed to attend his preaching, or mingle in his 
society. They remember certain expressions both 
of countenance and language, which seemed to in- 
dicate a tone of piety — a spirituality of feeling — too 
exalted for a long continuance here. And it is to 
be regretted, that such expressions, at the time so 
powerful in their influence, and so carefully pre- 
served by a tenacious memory — no pen — no pencil 
can pourtray. Hence the sermons of animated and 
extemporary preachers, when introduced to us from 
the press, lose half their force and beauty. The 
scope of the discourse — the process of the argu- 
ment — may be indeed preserved; but the unpreme- 
ditated, momentary flashes of holy fervour, and of 
brilliant genius, cannot. The eloquence of the eye 
— the expression of the countenance— the meaning 
which is sometimes throAvn into every limb and 
muscle of the frame— are wanting. — And though 



* See a Sermon, delivered in Hoxton chapel, on the death of the 
Rev. T. Spencer, by the Rev. Henry Forster Burder, M. A, one of th* 
tutors of the Hoxton academy, page 32. 



«HAr.v. LIFE OF SPE1NCER. 183 

'tis pleasing to possess a memorial of those, whom, 
living, we revered and loved, yet the imperfection 
of the copy only deepens our regret at the loss of 
the original. In the preaching of Spencer, it 
seemed as though he saw hefore him every object he 
described — and felt the full force — the vast impor- 
tance of every subject upon which he spoke. 

Preaching one evening at Back street, Horsley 
Down, and speaking of the reward of the faithful 
minister, " Methinks," said he, " I already hear the 
melodious accents of the Saviour's voice, saying,' 
* Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into 
the joy of thy Lord,'" It was remarked, that 
he appeared as though he heard a voice personally 
addressing him. His anticipation was in a very 
few months realized ! 

Anxious for the usefulness and variety of his mi- 
nistry, he begged of his friend, upon his leaving 
London, to send him any useful pamphlets or works 
which might come out: " Let me know," said he, 
" when popular ministers are in town — the texts 
they take for particular occasions— festivals, &c. ; 
the settling or removal of my fellow-students," &c. 

The last time he was with his friend alone, prior 
to his setting off for Liverpool, their approaching 
separation was, as may be well imagined, the topic 
of discourse. After much conversation, with the 
simplicity of a child, he asked him if he had any 
more cautions or advice to give him : then, with his 
own peculiar affection and energy, he said, 

" Through Christ when we together came, 

In singleness of heart, 
We met, O Jesu, in thy name, 

And in thy name we part. 

We part in body, not in mind; 

Our minds continue one : 
And each to each, in Jesus joiivd, » 

We happily go on. 



184 LIFE OF SPENCER. part n. 

Present in spirit still we are, 

And intimately nigh; 
While on the wings of faith and prayer, 

We Abba, Father, cry. 

O may thy Spirit, dearest Lord, 

In all our travels still 
Direct, and be our constant guard 

To Zion's holy hill. 

Oh, what a joyful meeting there, 

Beyond these changing shades ; 
White are the robes we then shall wear r 

And crowns upon our heads. 

Haste, Lord, and bring us to the day 

When we shall dwell at home \ 
Come, O Redeemer, come away, 

O Jesus quickly come." 



PART III. 



PROM HIS SETTLEMENT TS LIVERPOOL TO 
HIS DEATH. 



CHAP. I. 



Hfs entrance on his stated Ministry. 

ON Sunday, 3d of February, 1811, Mr. Spencer 
commenced Ins stated, pastoral labours,, at Ne wing- 
ton chapel, Liverpool. He was then just twenty 
years of age — possessed of every endowment that 
could render him eminent as a minister — and every 
amiable disposition that could endear him as a friend. 
The people of his charge, together with numbers 
who participated with them in their joy, hailed his 
entrance on his sacred duties with delight. From 
him they fondly anticipated a long series of varied 
and useful instructions — on him they gazed with 
admiration, as affording them no mean example of a 
holy and devoted life — and to him they looked with 
pleasure as their children's friend. That he was 
prepared to meet these high expectations, none who 
have contemplated the superior qualities of his 
mind can, for a moment, doubt. His literary attain- 



186 LIFE OF SPENCER. PABT 1H -- 

ments, though not splendid, were respectable, and 
his theological knowledge was considerable. His 
acquaintance with mankind indeed was scanty. He 
had only moved amongst the excellent of the earth. 
But this, while it might expose him to certain in- 
conveniences, gave him this advantage — that he 
appeared in all the native ingenuousness of unsus- 
pecting youth. His love of study was great, which 
insured a constant supply of interesting materials 
for his public ministry — whilst he possessed a faci- 
lity, an ease, and an elegance, in the communication 
of his thoughts, displayed by few. To all these, he 
added the graces of the Spirit in no common degree 
■ — the glorious attributes of a soul eminently devoted 
to God — a solemn awe of Ins sacred office — an ha- 
bitual reference to the final account he should be 
called to give — and an ardent zeal for the Redeem- 
er's glory. Such was Spencer when he entered on 
the duties of his sacred ministry. 

But I shall justify this sketch of his character by 
some extracts from his letters. 

In one. dated Brighton, January the 9th, 1811, 
he says — 

" I dread the termination of the happiness I now 
enjoy. It will be the commencement of a long and 
agonizing separation. Oh ! that henceforth I may 
live more devotedly to God than I have ever yet 
done. I can truly say this is my desire; for to be a 
preacher of the Gospel, and not to feel its due abid- 
ing influence on the heart, is awful indeed. Since 
I have been here I have trembled for myself, when I 
have recollected the numerous follies of the four 
years I have spent at Hoxton. The Lord pardon 
me, and teach me to be more holy. Pray for me. 
Affectionately your's, " 

Mr. Spencer is certainly a striking example of 
what some persons are unwilling to admit— the pos- 



•hap. I. LIFE OF SPENCER 187 

sibility of a close and humble walk with God, even 
amid the snares and temptations of an academy. 
That in colleges, even the best regulated, tempta- 
tions to levity exist, cannot be denied. Where 
many young men of a lively turn of mind, are asso- 
ciated, it must be so. But although such a spirit 
may be partially, and at intervals encouraged — yet, 
where there is true piety, the mind will be elevated 
above its habitual influence, and occasional in- 
stances of failure will excite to diligence for the 
future, whilst they awaken deep regret and poig- 
nant sorrow for the past. If to this there Avas a 
natural tendency in - Spencer's constitution, how 
sweetly is the influence of better principles dis- 
played in the humility with which he confesses and 
deplores his error. If upon this page the eye of a 
cold, phlegmatic, stern professor should dwell, let it 
not be averted in disgust, when it beholds this ami- 
able youth's confession of an error, of a temptation 
to which, from the constitution of his nature, he is 
incapable — and to others, if Such there be, who., 
happy to discover in a character like his any thing 
like the shadow of afault, are preparing to pronounce 
a sensorious and malignant judgment, I would say, 
■ — ' Let him that is without sin cast the first stone/ 

The following letter was written the day after his 
arrival in Liverpool. 



Letter XXXV. 
TO MR. JOHN HABDON, 



" Liverpool, February 2d, 1811. 

" My dear Friend, 

" I am safely arrived at the scene of 
my future labours. My journey, though long, was 



188 LIFE OF SPENCER. part hi. 

far less irksome than any one I have before under- 
taken. The roads were had; this made ns late in 
our arrival at Liverpool. We did not reach it till 
a quarter before twelve last night. The short time 
that i have yet spent here has been quite pleasant 
•■ — it has been happy. The serious people of the 
congregation have already paid me many kind and 
Christian attentions. With the blessing of the 
Master whom I serve, I expect to-morrow to spend 
a very delightful Sabbath. My best feelings for the 
glory of our Lord, and the increase of his kingdom, 
will I hope be more strongly excited than ever they 
have yet been. I cannot but think that the Head 
of the church has some great work to accomplish 
in Liverpool, and the desire of my heart is that I 
may be the instrument employed to effect it. Oh! 
for a large measure of the influence of the blessed 
Spirit to render me ardently pious, and to keep me 
zealous in my endeavours to do good to souls. I 
know here are numbers who pray earnestly for me, 
and whilst these pious people besiege the throne of 
grace on my behalf) I will not fear that my God will 
desert me. — To be holy and to be useful at this mo- 
ment appears to be the first wish of my heart. Do 
you say, ' indulgent God let it be accomplished!' 

"■ I am tired with my journey and pressed for time. 
Believe me, in the bonds of Christian affection, 
" Sincerely your's, 

" THOMAS SPENCEH." 



According to his anticipation, he did enjoy on 
the Sabbath a happy day, although in the morn- 
ing he was considerably agitated by the peculiarly 
solemn circumstances of his new and most respon- 
sible situation. In the morning his text was admi- 
rably adapted to the occasion — Genesis, chap.. 



chap. I. LIFE OF SPENCER. 189 

xxviii. vcr. 20—22, " And Jacob vowed a vow, say* 
ing, It' God will be with me, and keep me in this way 
that I go, and will give me bread to eat, and rai- 
ment to put on, so that I come again to my father's 
house in peace; then shall the Lord be my God, 
and this stone which I have set for a pillar, shall 
be God's house, and of all that thou shall give me, 
I will surely give the tenth unto thee.' In the even- 
ing he preached from I. Corinthians, chap. xv. 
verse 49, ' And as we have borne the image of the 
earthy, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly.' 
In the course of the ensuing week, he wrote as fol- 
lows. 



Letter XXXVI, 



" Liverpool, February 7, 1811. 
" Oh! what a memorable day to me 
was the first Sabbath I spent in this place; every 
circumstance that took place appeared worthy of at- 
tention and big with events. Never before had I 
entered a pulpit with those awful, solemn feelings, 
with which I was impressed that morning. The 
idea of appearing in a new character, of entering on 
a station which I have no view of relinquishing till 
the day of my death ; the weight of responsibility 
which attaches to the ministerial character; the 
dread lest I should act in any way unworthy of my 
sacred office — all these things would naturally im- 
part an unusual solemnity to the mind. On that 
DAY Heaven is my witness of the resolutions I 
formed. Oh that God may ever enable me to put 
them in execution." 






The attention which his labours had excited, 
while an occasional supply, was repeated, now that 



190 LIFE OF SPENCER. part m. 

he had commenced his stated ministry. Soon the 
chapel became again crowded to excess. The 
town was filled with his praise — the most respectable 
of the inhabitants were perpetually disappointed in 
their attempts to hear him, not being in any way 
able to gain admittance to the chapel, so excessive 
was the throng. His coming seemed to be the 
commencement of a new era in the religious inter- 
ests of Liverpool — at least amongst the Dissenters. 
The prejudices of many were gradually subdued. 
The tone of public sentiment, with respect to that 
class of Christians amongst whom he laboured, con- 
siderably raised. Many, by no means anxious to 
conceal their opposition to his principles, Were com- 
pelled to pay a just, though reluctant, tribute to the 
fascinations of his eloquence ; and many whom the 
fame of that eloquence brought beneath the sound 
of his voice, were savingly converted unto God ; 
and of these, some are at this moment honourable 
members of the church of which he was the pastor. 

So far from being elated by his popularity, and 
rendered vain by the uncommon attention he excited 
and received from all ranks — every Sabbath, while 
he grew in public estimation, he seemed to sink in 
his own esteem ; in humble acknowledgments of his 
own unworthiness ; and in a yet deeper sense of his 
awful obligations. 



Letter XXXVII. 
TO HIS FATHER. 



" Liverpool, February 26, 181 1. 
" I assure you I have every reason to be- 
lieve, that this is the sphere in which infinite wisdom 
intends me to move. My congregation is vast every 
time I dispense the word of life. A general spirit 



chap.1, LIFE OF SPENCER. VJl 

of hearing seems excited in tins large town — the 
prospect is in every respect encouraging-, and I am 
induced to hope, that great good will be done. I 
feel the awful responsibility that attaches to my em- 
ployment; and when I recollect the multitude of 
souls committed to my care, I tremble, and exclaim, 
' Who is sufficient for these things V I often think 
how different is my situation now, to what it was 
when I lived at my father's house. I am called to 
an active and laborious scene. Once it was enough 
for me just to execute your wishes, and then in the 
quiet enjoyment of our own family circle to expe- 
rience satisfaction and, comfort. Now God has 
blessed me by making me a blessing to others. 
May he preserve me faithful, and make me an ho- 
nourable and holy Christian!" 

In another letter to his father, dated April the 9th, 
1811 , he says — 

" The interest excited in this town is still lively 
and great. I trust much good is done. Prejudices 
are removed, convictions are impressed on the mind, 
and the cause of Satan appears to tremble under 
the influence of the doctrines of the cross." 



This is indeed a portrait worthy the attention of 
the candidate for the Christian ministry — the student 
■ — and the minister. It is charming to behold such 
excellence, so universally applauded, veiled from its 
own observation by such deep humility. Some have 
indulged in speculations on the probable influence 
of Spencer's popularity upon his character, had he 
been spared. It is possible that its influence might 
have been injurious; he was a man, though he was 
a Christian. But it is ungenerous and unjust to his 
memory to cherish any gloomy suspicious on the 



192 LIFE OF SPENCEB. part hi. 

subject, when, long- as lie did live, he sustained the 
Christian character with unsullied purity, and de- 
scended to the grave the same holy, humble, and 
devoted youth, as when emerging from the obscu- 
rity of his birth, the world first witnessed his unfold- 
ing powers* 

To the extracts already made, illustrative of his 
humility, I shall add another, which, as it is without 
date, may be well introduced here* 



Letter XXXVIIL 
TO A MINISTER* 



" I have at length taken up my pen to 
return you my sincere acknowledgments for the 
lively interest you take in my welfare and happiness, 
and especially for the excellent advice you have 
given me, as to the faithfulness of my preaching, 
and the circumspection necessary in my conduct. 
Oh! never may I be left to indifference in the state- 
ment of those glorious truths, which may well de- 
mand the glowing fervour of our souls, since their 
importance is declared to us by the blood of the 
Lamb. May the same Saviour be honoured by my 
feeble ministrations, whom I know you delight to 
extol. Xou have been long engaged in endeavour- 
ing to give him a high place in the affections — and 
a throne in the hearts of the people. This, however, 
is a glorious cause, in which I have but lately em- 
barked ; yet may the same Holy Spirit, who has 
enabled the heralds of salvation in every age to 
testify of Jesus, make my tongue ever to tell his 
excellence, warm my heart to feel his love, and in- 
fluence my conduct to show forth his praise ! I 
think I hear you add, — Amen I" 



LIFE 01? SPENCER, IJ)8 



The following is also without date :- 



Letter XXXIX. 
TO MR. HADDON. 



^' Liverpool. 

*< My dear Friend, 

" I earnestly wish for you the sup- 
port and the care of our constant and unchangeable 
Friend, the Lord Jesus Christ : every day seems to 
convince me of the necessity and the happiness of a 
close walk with God : let us be always trusting in 
God, and praying to him, and there is no doubt but 
he will preserve and bless us. I was much pleased 
with an instance of resignation to the Divine will I 
lately met with. A pious and valuable member of 
our congregation, lost his property, to a consider- 
able amount, by an alarming fire. I was with him 
soon after it happened, and it would have done you 
good to have heard him say, with so much calm and 
sacred acquiescence as he discovered, " The Lord 
gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be 
the name of the Lord." I could not but wish that 
in all times of trial, I and my friends might have the 
same God to strengthen and fortify the mind as he 
had. Indeed you were mistaken, my worthy friend, 
when you judged my letter to you an expression of 
joy at separation from my friends. No, no ! There 
is not a heart in the world that feels more truly and 
sincerely on such occasions than my own ; but I 
wish ever to remember the great object of my exis- 
tence, and of my call to the ministry — not selfish 
ends, but the glory of my God ; and when he com- 
mands, whatever flesh and blood might suggest, or 
carnal wishes desire, I must immediately obey. It 
is this thought, ana the persuasion that I am em- 
ployed in the vineyard of the Lord, just according ta 
Ms will, that give me composure- and peace of mind; 



194 LIFE OF SPENCER. *abt iff. 

and I can witness, that prayer unloads and eases 
the mind as much at Liverpool as any where else. 
Here I hope I have felt such salutary convictions 
of the awful responsibility of my work, as I never 
knew before, and as I hope I shall never forget ; and 
happy am I to find, that here there are many of the 
Lord's jewels, his choicest favourites: many who cail 
on the name of the Lord Jesus, both theirs and ours, 
out of a pure heart, and faith unfeigned. In our 
prayer meeting, I have enjoyed a heaven begun be- 
low, and that kind of devotion which can well repay 
me for the sacrifices I have made. I suppose you 
have heard of the prospects of usefulness which 
open themselves before me : may I have grace to 
improve every hour of my time to the service of my 
God, and to maintain that holiness and integrity of 
conduct which will recommend the glorious Gospel 
I proclaim. According to my arrangements, I ex- 
pect to be in town in May. Remember me affec- 
tionately to our friends. I often think of the pleasant 
opportunities we have enjoyed together, and often 
wish you resided here. Whenever you see Mr. 
Hill, of Westminster, give my respects to him. I 
highly esteem him, because he discovers much of 
the image and spirit of Christ ; and these are excel- 
lencies which must be loved by us, if we are Chris- 
tians, wherever we find them. May the God of 
peace be with you, and ever keep you near himself. 
Pray for me, that I may have all needful grace and 
assistance. Write as soon as possible, and ever 
view me 

Your affectionate friend, 

"THOMAS SPENCER." 



But scarcely had Spencer entered on the full 
discharge of his public duties at Liverpool, when 
severe affliction in the endeared circle of his con- 
nexions at Brighton called him to that place. A 



chap.t. LIFE OF SPENCER. 195 

letter written about this period, displays the ago- 
nized state of his feelings — but abounds with ex- 
pressions of holy acquiescence in the divine dispen- 
sations. He left Liverpool on the 18th of March, 
accompanied by the valued friend, under whose roof 
he still resided, and whose guest he was, during his 
first visit. Arrived in London, the following hasty 
note bespeaks the anguish of his mind. 

" Ludgate street, Tuesday Night. 

" My dear Friend, 

" This moment I am within a few 
doors of you, but cannot reach you. Mr. H. is with 
me: we have just got in from Liverpool, and start 
tor B. to-morrow, at seven o'clock in the morning. 
I shall write to you from Brighton. Pray for me ; 
I am in unutterable distress. Farewell. 

" T. SPENCERS 

The Sabbath after his arrival in Brighton, he did 
not engage in any public service. Much of the day, 
doubtless, was spent in administering comfort to the 
afflicted. The fears which he had sometimes been 
induced to harbour, were not, however, realized; 
health slowly re turned. His friend was under the 
necessity of hastening to Liverpool, after the lapse of 
a few days — but Mr. Spencer remained at Brighton. 
His affectionate heart dictated the following letter, 
to welcome his friend on his arrival home. 



Letter XL. 
TO MR. HARRIS. 



" Brighton, Thursday Morning. 

" My dear and valued Friend, 

" I am pleasing myself with the idea, 
that before this reaches Liverpool, you will have 



196 LIFE OF SPENCER. part nu 

shared the hearty and affectionate welcome of a 
beloved and happy family: this is a blessing- which 
you know how to improve and enjoy aright, and 
for which I am persuaded you will express the sin- 
cerest gratitude to the God of our mercies. May 
the same kind and watchful Providence, which has 
I trust led you to your home in peace and safety, 
also preserve and defend me, that I may be again 
restored to the church and congregation at New- 
ington, and be enabled to pursue a course of active 
and useful labour in the service of the Master whom 
I hope I really love. 

" I frequently think that by this visit to Brighton 
on so mournful an occasion, I shall be better fitted 
to sympathize with the afflicted in general, and be 
taught how to commend them to God. Before this 
I had not been at all familiar with scenes of sorrow 
and distress. In the two sick rooms you visited 
last Monday evening, 1 have learned lessons which 
I shall never forget, and the benefit of which may 
probably be communicated to the church of Christ 
as well as to myself. 

" Our Redeemer himself, in order to be rendered 
a merciful and compassionate high priest, was 
' tempted like as we are ;' endured the various ills 
and sorrows that flesh is heir to; and hence (oh! 
blessed sympathy and kind relief) he is able to suc- 
cour them that are tempted. 

" Next Sabbath morning I intend to preach at 
the Countess's chapel, and in the evening at Mr. 
Styles's : pray for me, that I may be supported and 
blest. It is still my design to reach Liverpool on 
Friday night : tell our friends that they may expect 
to see me in the pulpit on the following Sabbath. 
May I be there richly laden with the good things of 
the kingdom ; — may I be animated by a mind fraught 
with rich and heavenly favours. I am sure that if 
Biy God restores those who are so dear to me |9- 



<?« AP »• LIFE OF SPENCER 197 

perfect health and strength, my heart, hard as it is, 
will "not be insensible to the feeling of gratitude. 
No ; — it will leap as doth a hart ; it will pant with 
the sensations of unutterable joy. I have received 
a very kind letter from our worthy friend, Mr. N. 

H ; do tell him it afforded me real pleasure, 

and give him my hearty thanks for his solicitude for 
my happiness. I hope you are going on well with 
the new chapel business; if possible, let us make 
Satan tremble; against the kingdom of darkness let 
us use the most active and unwearied exertions, 
and God shall bless us in our deed. I wish I could 
have attended the meeting of the Bible Society ; 
my absence however was unavoidable. Give my 
affectionate regards to my dear friend Mrs. Harris, 
and to your dear children. I hope I shall soon see 
you all happy and well. Your unremitting kindness 
to me has produced impressions upon my mind 
which will never be obliterated. I shall be happy 
again to mix with your family circle, and to occupy 
my own pulpit. To the hearers at Newington I 
intend to shew my regard and best wishes, by con- 
stantly labouring in their service. 

" I am more than ever yours, 

"THOMAS SPENCER. 



The uncommon attention excited in Liverpool by 
Mr. Spencer's ministry, soon suggested the neces- 
sity of providing more accommodation than New- 
ington chapel could afford for the numbers who 
were anxious to enjoy the benefit of his stated 
labours. At first, the idea of enlarging the old 
place of worship presented itself; but some diffi- 
culties arising, this was relinquished, and early in 
March it was resolved, that a chapel capable of 
accommodating two thousand persons should be 



198 LIFE OF SPENCER. FART in - 

erected — a committee of management was appoint- 
ed — and an eligible spot of ground soon selected 
for the purpose. A most judicious plan for the 
building was proposed and adopted — the dimen- 
sions of which were thirty-two yards long, outside, 
and twenty-one yards and a half broad, outside. A 
liberal subscription was soon obtained, and the affair 
was in a state of such forwardness on his return from 
Brighton, that on the 15th of April, Mr. Spencer 
laid the first stone of the chapel, in the presence of 
an immense assembly — computed to consist of about 
six thousand persons. On that truly interesting 
occasion he delivered an appropriate address, and 
solemnly dedicated the place to God by prayer. 

About this time Mr. Spencer removed from the 
hospitable abode of his early friend, with whom he 
had resided on his first coming to Liverpool, in order 
to lodge with Mr. Thurstan Lassell, in the Park 
lioad ; a pleasant situation, about half a mile from 
the town. It was the lot of Spencer to be beloved 
in every circle which he entered — and none who 
were honoured to behold his excellence, and enjoy 
his friendship, ever resigned him without feelings of 
the deepest regret. I cannot deny myself the plea- 
sure of extracting a sentence or two from the willing 
testimony which that friend has borne to the sterling 
worth of his amiable guest. I am the more anxious 
to do this, as it will unveil his character in private 
life, and discover what he was as the member of a 
family. 

" We had the great advantage of Mr. Spencer's 
pious conversation and fervent prayers in the family 
for near four months, for he did not leave us till the 
latter end of April; it was indeed a pleasant, and, 
I trust, a profitable season, which we often review 
with great delight. With what pleasing emotions 
have we often surrounded our domestic altar, and 
witnessed the fervour of his addresses to the God 



*hap. i. LIFE OF SPENCER. 199 

and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. In this 
delightful employ, he never seemed to engage with 
half a heart ; his whole soul was alive to the service 
of his God : he was serious in a serious cause, nor 
did any circumstances that arose ever seem to unfit 
him for the discharge of religious duties. Morning 
and evening he generally engaged in prayer at fa- 
mily worship ; the variety he produced on these 
occasions has often astonished us ; it was impossible 
to trace any thing like repetition; every prayer 
seemed quite new, and gave fresh proof of the 
powers of his mind, and the ardour of his soul. 

" Mr. Spencer naturally possessed an amiable 
disposition, and w r as innocently cheerful; no one 
could say that gloom or melancholy was connected 
with his religion. In his manners he was simple 
and unaffected ; any thing like ostentation or parade 
he disliked exceedingly : he would always, if possi- 
ble, avoid mixing with large parties. The company 
of serious, pious, plain Christians, was his delight. 
lie was kind, generous, and tender-hearted; the 
wants of the poor and necessitous he was ready and 
willing to reliev e ; * To do good and communicate 
he forgot not, knowing that with such sacrifices 
God is well pleased.' " 

But, whilst all around him was prosperous and 
happy — whilst his ministry was successful beyond 
his most sanguine expectations — and hundreds were 
eager to administer to his comfort — his heart was 
the victim of anxiety and grief. The continued and 
alarming indisposition of his friends at Brighton, 
inspired his delicate and susceptible mind with the 
most gloomy and agonizing fears. It was well. His 
heavenly Father saw he needed some thorn in the 
flesh, under the circumstances of his unexampled 
popularity, to prevent his being exalted above mea- 
sure — and to preserve his soul in a frame of holy 
solemnity, and humble reliance on himself. Lest 



200 LIFE OF SPENCER. *>*»* «#• 

the sun of bis prosperity should dazzle him too 
much, these friendly clouds were permitted to in- 
tervene. Their salutary influence may be traced in 
the following letter. ) 



Letter XLL 
TO MR. JOHN HADDON* 



" Liverpool, April Id, IS If. 

" My dear Friend, 

" The melancholy stale of depression 
in which I have been held so long, must form my 
excuse for neglecting the sacred duties of friend- 
ship, in not writing before this to you. Oh ! how 

soon can Jehovah blast our hopes of happiness from 
creature comforts, to convince us of the uncertainty 
of all earthly good. We must " walk by faith," 
and live in the exercise of a lively hope that we 
shall obtain a better and more permanent rest. I 
scarcely dare, for my own part, anticipate any other 
kind of happiness on earth, but what may arise from 
communion with the Saviour, and the delightful 
work in which I am engaged, which, I must say, 
amidst all my trials, affords me increasing happiness 
and pleasure. Thanks be to God, the work of the 
Lord is prospering in my hand ; and though I may 
not have much pleasure in this world myself, I hope 
I shall be the means, in the hands of the Holy Spirit, 
of putting into the possession of my fellow creatures, 
real and substantial felicity; this, the Gospel I am 
enabled to preach is sent to confer. The next 
week I expect to go to my lodgings. I shall reside 
in a retired rural and delightful spot, with a family 
(three only in number) who belong to the congre- 
gation in which the Lord has graciously called me 
to labour; it is about half a mile from the town, 



chap i. LIFE OF SPENCER. 201 

away from all bustle and noise, commanding a most 
delightful and enchanting prospect of both land and 
water. My study affords a most extensive view of 
fields and hills, the river, and the adjacent county 
(Cheshire.) I am persuaded it is every thing I could 
wish for as a plan for my residence. In that plea- 
sant study* I expect to spend much time, and enjoy 
some degree of pleasure ; and my dear friend will 
believe me when I assure him, that amidst the afflic- 
tions which our righteous Father judges the best 
schools for me, it would tend to alleviate my sor- 
rows and cheer my spirits, could he be in my new 
study, and, as he did in my old one, occasionally 
spend an hour or two with me in social chat. 

" Yesterday I laid the foundation stone of my 
new chapel, gave an address upon the spot, and 
dedicated the place to God in solemn prayer. The 
auditory consisted of not less than five thousand 
people, who were all fixed in their attention. May 
I, on that ground, often find a solace for my cares, 
in the public worship of God ! May he bless the 
undertaking ! May his eyes and his heart be there 
perpetually ! 

" Farewell — I must break off by assuring you that 
" I am sincerely your's, 

" THOMAS SPENCER." 



The week following that in which he laid the 
foundation stone of the new chapel, Mr. Spencer 
made an excursion into the country, and preached 

* To me it is a melancholy reflection, that I should so soon become 
the occupier of a spot in which he had fondly pictured to himself so 
many years of pleasure. In his own study — on his own table — in 
his own chair — I am now drawing up these memoirs of his life ; 
— around me are the fruits of his short, but laborious exertions — and 
immediately before my eyes the path by which he descended to his 
grave ! From every object within my view, I am admonished, 
* work whilst it is day, for the night cometh, when no man can 
work.' I would that every loiterer in the vineyard of Christ were 
attended by mementos such as these. 

*3 



202 LIFE OF SPKNCER. r <* BT ** 

on the Tuesday evening at Darzcen, and on the 
Thursday evening at a meeting of ministers at 
Blackburn. 

During this journey he suffered much from the 
complaint to Avhich he was subject;* but although 
labouring under the pressure of severe indisposi- 
tion, in the pulpit he rose superior to the influence 
of langour and pain — and his exertions on that 
journey are still spoken of by those who witnessed 
them with delight. 

On his return to Liverpool, Mr. Spencer received 
a melancholy summons to Chester, to attend the 
funeral of his early and amiable friend, the Rev. 
Ebenezer White, and to deliver the oration at his 
grave. His obligations and attachment to that ex- 
cellent man have already been recorded. When 
arrived at the scene of death, his delicate mind 
seemed overwhelmed in an agony of grief. He 
stood weeping in unutterable distress over the cold 
remains of his departed friend. His bosom, formed 
for friendship, and even then the seat of no ordinary 
sorrow, was ill prepared to sustain the pressure of 
a stroke, by which he was suddenly bereft of one 
who had discharged for him the relations of the 
father, the tutor, and the friend. Mr, Walter 
White, who was the witness of his grief, has thus 
described it: — " I shall not easily forget this dear 
young man's behaviour on the evening preceding 
my brother's funeral at Chester. We were stand- 
ing together by the side of the coffin, viewing the 
corpse — he wept excessively, and clasping his hands, 
with great emotion exclaimed, ' Oh ! that I may but 
finish my course like him !' and turning to me he 
said, with his usual energy, ' Oh! what a fine 
thought it is, that the bodies of the saints are pur- 
chased by Christ as well as their souls.' And then 

* An overflow of bilp, which frequently discoloured his countenance. 



™ap. i. LIFE OF SPENCER. 203 

passing his friendly hand gently over my brother's 
face he said, with great emphasis, ' This body is 
the purchase of Christ : it cannot be lost — it must 
revive again — all these limbs must resume their 
activity. Oh, with what fine sentiments and ideas 
does the Christian religion furnish ns to what any 
of the heathenish systems did !' " 

Though excessively agitated in his whole frame, 
he yet sustained himself to deliver at the grave a 
funeral oration, characterized by tender and solemn 
eloquence — the eloquence of feeling and of piety. 

His letters to his friends, for some time after this 
event, contain occasional allusions to the death of 
Mr. White, and in a way which proves how much 
he loved him — how deeply he deplored his loss. In 
one he says: 

" I have lately been visiting a scene of death at 
Chester : my worthy friend Mr. White is now no 
more in this world; but I doubt not, that he shines 
illustriously in another state of existence. When 
I was eleven years of age he came to Hertford, and 
used to spend a great deal of time with me : ah, little 
did I then think I should have to deliver a funeral 
address at his interment, and so far away too from 
the place with which we were then familiar. Peace to 
his ashes, and eternal joy to his departed spirit ! and 
ere long may I meet him in that blessed state, where 
disappointments will no longer be his lot or mine," 



Letter XLII. 
TO MR. GEORGE MEDLEY, 



" Liverpool^ May 12th, 1811. 

" My very dear Friend, 

" I hope you will not mistake that 
remissness in writing I have to confess to you for 



204 LIFE OF SPENCER. part in. 

neglect, as it arises from the number and pressing- 
nature of my daily important engagements — and 
you know I have to undertake all these with a mind 
always tortured with anxiety, and exercised with 
the severe strokes of our Father's chastening rod. 
XiOng and distressing is the illness of both my be- 
loved friends at Brighton. The event is with God* 
and I know that he will so manage it, as to advance 
his own glory, though perhaps not what I should 
consider my interest. You too, my dear friend, 
have shared a measure of affliction from the dispo- 
sals of divine Providence : I have no doubt but you 
have felt, and felt keenly too ; but you can ' hope in 
God, for you shall yet praise him, who is the health 
of your countenance and your God.' His grace 
shall be sufficient for you, his arm shall sustain both 
you and yours, and in your cares he will ever feel 
the liveliest interest. Oh then, cast, my valued 
friend, cast all your cares upon him, for he careth 
for you. I often delight my mind with reflecting on 
the various pleasures we enjoyed together in what 
the world would call better days: but we, who look 
upward more than the men of the world do, would 
call no days or seasons ill or unfortunate, because 
to us there is a promise made which says, ' As thy 
day is, so shall thy strength be.' Frequently how- 
ever do I> with affectionate remembrance of your- 
self, review the different, the interesting joumies 
we have taken together. — Now separated by the 
hand of providence* we serve the same beloved 
Lord — we press to the same holy and happy state. 
May grace preserve us all the days of our pilgrim- 
age on earth, and land us safe in heaven. 

" I think that till very lately I never properly 
considered the uncertainty of human life, or the va- 
nity of the world. God has however caused me to 
hear impressive lectures on these subjects, in such 
a way as secured my deepest attention, and reached 



«»Ar.!. LttfE OF SPENCER. 205 

my inmost soul. Oh that I may learn obedience by 
the things which I suffer ! 

" I hope I am blessed from above in my minis- 
terial work : may the Eternal Spirit sanction and 
succeed my labours. I hope to be ordained the 
second week in June. Rev. Ebenezer White, of 
Chester, has recently joined the spirits of just men 
made perfect. I am going to his funeral. Fare- 
well : may you keep close to God, and then I know 
you will be happy. 

• "I am, yours affectionately, 

"THOMAS SPENCER." 



On the Sabbath evening - following Mr. Spencer 
preached a funeral sermon for his friend, in his own 
pulpit at Liverpool, from Deuteronomy, chap. 
xxxiv. verse 5, ' So Moses, the servant of the 
Lord, died there in the land of Moab, according to 
the word of the Lord.' The sermon was solemn 
and impressive. Thus we record the mortality of 
others, and drop into eternity ourselves. On that 
Sabbath evening three months, his own funeral 
sermon was preached in the same pulpit. 

The following letter was written the day before 
the funeral of Mr. White : — 



Letter XLIII. 
TO MR. HAI>BON. 



" May 13fft, 1811. 

" My deaji Friend, 

" I am ashamed when I think of the 
length of time which has passed since I last wrote 
to you ; but indeed since then I have scarcely writ- 



206 LIFE OF SPENCER. part in. 

ten to any one, so much have I been occupied. 
What a beautiful and admirable narrative is the 
Dairyman's Daughter; if you can, get me two hun- 
dred of them, and send me the very first opportu- 
nity : they are just the kind of publication I want 
for several of my hearers. Procure me too some 
of the Negro Servant; and of all the interesting 
modern tracts which your owr. discretion may sug- 
gest. The Rev. Ebenezer White, of Chester, has 
entered into the joy of his Lord. He was formerly 
settled at Hertford. I knew him, and highly es- 
teemed him. I am going to his funeral. Oh how 
uncertain is human life : how necessary that habi- 
tual frame of piety which the Holy Spirit can im- 
part to his believing favourites! May we both 
enjoy the sanctity of religion, love it for its purity, 
and be enabled to discern its holy excellencies; then 
we shall show that our regeneration is real, and our 
hope of heaven well supported. God is showing 
me more and more of the uncertainty of all things 
here, and the necessity of living the blessed life of 
faith upon the Son of God, who, I sometimes think 
I can say, " loved me, and gave himself for me." 
I study a good deal, and find increasing pleasure 
in it. In visiting, as yet, I have done but very 
little. The families I am most intimate with are 
the serious, the pious followers of Christ; for I find 
that these alone can help me to comfort under my 
own trials, or in any way do me real good. But I 
know I must not be selfish. I must labour to do 
good in any way I can possibly think of. 

" lam much pleased with my lodgings ; the situ- 
ation is so retired and beautiful, that it is every thing 
I can wish. I doubt not but you continue to pray 
for me ; and I need your prayers. I feel the awful 
responsibility of my work, and my own unfitness for 
it. I long to ' present every man perfect in Christ 



CHAP 1' LIFE OF SPENCER. 207 

Jesus.' Remember me affectionately to all our 
friends. 

" I am sincerely your's, 

"THOMAS SPENCER." 



Mr. Spencer now became more and more inter- 
ested in his important work. The scenes of every 
day appeared to present it to his mind in some new 
and affecting light. The powers of his soul were 
absorbed in its concerns. He could think and speak 
of nothing else. In the pulpit, or in preparations 
for it — in serious conversation with his friends — or 
in the chambers of the diseased and dying, he was 
at home. He lived but for the discharge of his high 
obligations ; and in the prosecution of his arduous 
work he was both useful and happy. With asto- 
nishing rapidity his character and talents ripened. 
He seemed to grow daily in favour both with God 
and man. All that saw him, admired him, there was 
something so engaging in his manner — all that heard 
him, respected and revered him, so serious and im- 
portant were the truths which he delivered — all that 
knezo him, loved him, for his was every amiable qua- 
lity that could excite and retain the best affections 
of the human heart. 

Valuable as our public institutions for the edu- 
cation of students for the Christian ministry really 
are, they can afford but an inadequate conception 
of the complicated duties of the pastoral office. 
The work of the pulpit is perhaps, after all, not the 
most difficult or trying part of the pastor's employ 
— and the reason why so many fail when called into 
active service in the church of God, is probably 
this, that they never calculated upon one-half of the 
engagements which then press upon their regard. 
They had formed a most incorrect estimate of the 
numerous claims which the office of the ministry 
involves, upon their time — their talents — their pa- 



2(J8 LIFE OF SPENCER. part ni. 

tience — and their faith. They had imagined, that in 
the composition and delivery of sermons was the 
chief of their labour — and that when this duty was 
discharged, by far the heaviest burden was removed. 
The visitation of the sick, with all the peculiar de- 
licacy, prudence, affection, and faithfulness which it 
requires — the consolation of the distressed, with all 
the caution and skill which the varieties of their 
grief demaod — the reproof and admonition of the 
irregular, with all the mingled tenderness, constancy, 
and fidelity, which in such difficult cases must be 
exercised — the care of the young, with that adap- 
tation of temper and manner to their capacities, 
which, in the work of catechizing, familiar convex 
sation, or public instruction, is absolutely necessary 
— the advising, comforting, and relieving the dis- 
tressed, the embarrassed, and the indigent, avIio all 
press to him for counsel, solace, and relief; — these, 
and unnumbered other duties connected with the 
pastoral office, are perhaps but seldom contemplated 
with sufficient seriousness amid the exercises of a 
college. And even in the public engagements of the 
ministry, the circumstances of the pastor differ ma- 
terially from those of the student. The pulpit com- 
positions of the student are general; those of the 
pastor must be particular. The student has no 
individual case to suit ; the congregation to whom 
he preaches are strangers to him : the pastor has as 
many cases as there are people committed to his 
charge. The student can select his topics, and 
adapt his preaching to the tone of his mind ; or, if 
peculiar reluctance should be felt, may enjoy the 
repose he wishes, and not preach at all : but the 
pastor must appear at the stated hours of worship, 
whatever be the frame and temper of his soul. Often 
he is called to the discussion of subjects but ill 
adapted to his feelings ; and it becomes his duty to 
administer consolation to others which his bleeding 



g&ap. l L 1 FE OF SPENCER. 201) 

bosom needs, but cannot take. He must sometimes 
cover with a smiling countenance an aching heart ; 
and his lips must exhort to tranquility and confi- 
dence in God, whilst over his own spirit broods the 
cloud of anxiety and sorrow. Happy shall I be 
if the perusal of these imperfect memoirs tend to 
excite in any bosom a spirit of Christian sympa- 
thy, and prayer for the ministers of the Gospel; 
or if these statements of the labours and anxieties 
of their office, shall induce those to pause and count 
the mighty cost, who may be thoughtlessly pressing 
forward to the arduous work. Let such remember 
the worth of souls — -the guilt of becoming accessary 
to their ruin — and the solemn account which they 
must render at the bar of God, who have taken 
upon themselves the responsibility of seeking, by 
every possible method, to promote their eternal 
interests. 

These considerations seemed ever present to the 
view of Spencer. The feelings of an affectionate 
and faithful pastor's heart breathe in every sentence 
of the following letter. 



Letter XLXV. 
TO MR. HADDON 









' : Liverpool, May 31, IS 11. 

" My dear Friend, 

*' You really must excuse my appa- 
rent neglect in not writing to you before; but if you 
knew the number and pressing nature of my avoca- 
tions, you would not wonder. I now feel, and deeply 
too, the dreadful responsibility of my employment. 
I have sick beds constantly to attend — a numerous 
congregation committed to my charge — a character 
to sustain, which ought ever to appear free even 



210 LIFE OF SPENCER. part mi.. 

from the very appearance of evil — and all this with 
the most depressed state of feelings, and but little 
experience of the arduous duties the course of the 
Christian ministry embraces. Often do I exclaim, 
' who is sufficient for these things f Oh that I may 
find that my sufficiency is of God. I am led at 
times to derive encouragement from the good which 
I trust the blessed Spirit has accomplished by my 
feeble labours ; but then I think again of my youth, 
my inexperience, my exposure to the fiery darts of 
the wicked one, and the possibility of my eventually 
becoming * a cast-away? 

" Oh ! there are many feelings of this painful 
class in my mind, which few can share, which I can- 
not dare, frequently, to communicate. 

" All this, and much more, do I daily feel. I 
wish you were with me. I could say a thousand 
things I cannot write, and you might console me 
with the comforts wherewith you yourself are com- 
forted of God. Do pray for me, for I need it more 
than ever now. Often do I dispense to others that 
consolation I cannot take myself. 

" Thank you a thousand times for Cecil! Oh, 
they are admirable : what a character was he ! Oh 
that the Head of the church would but make me like 
him. The tracts are just what I wanted : may a 
divine blessing attend the distribution of them. 
Farewell. 

" I am your's affectionately, 

*<< THOMAS SPENCER." 

In another letter he writes : 

" Cecil's works are a high treat indeed ; you can- 
not think how I enjoy the perusal of them. There 
are such valuable hints for ministers — such inestim- 
able directions, that I hope I shall evince the benefit 
of reading them to the last hour of the day in which 
I am appointed to work," 



CHAP. II. 



His Ordination. 



THE church and congregation at Liverpool now 
became anxious for Mr. Spencer's ordination, and 
Thursday the 27th of June was appointed for that 
solemn service. In the following- letter he announced 
it to his early friend and patron, Mr. Wilson, whose 
presence on that occasion he earnestly desired. 



Letter XLV. 
TO THOMAS WILSON, ESQ. 



<: Liverpool, June 4, 1811. 

" My dear Sir, 

" 1 am happy to inform you, that 
Thursday, June the 27th, is the day appointed for 
my ordination. Will you allow me to expect the 
pleasure of your presence and society at that so- 
lemnity? If you were here, you would be pleased 
with my prospect of usefulness, and you would be 
able to suggest some hints to our friends about the 
new chapel. Little things are apt to be neglected, 
and their neglect, though apparently trifling, would 
spoil the whole concern. We may well congratu- 
late each other on the triumph the Dissenters have 
obtained over an intolerant and oppressive spirit. 
They have imagined a vain thing : the Lord reign- 



£12 LIFE OF SPENCER. partus. 

etb, let the people tremble. You know the great 
depression of spirits under which I have for some 
time laboured ; may the Lord appear a present help 
in this time of trouble. The walls of Zion are to 
be built, it appears, in troublous times, for such 
they are to me : yet I would submissively commit my 
cause to God ; he may ordain that the benefit of his 
church, and the good of others shall be promoted 
by the ills I endure. You know poor White, of 
Chester, has received the end of his faith — the sal- 
vation of his soul ; I delivered the oration over his 
grave. Mr. Fletcher, of Blackburn, preached his 
funeral sermon. We are all dying creatures, has- 
tening: to the world of immortality. I think that 
lately the world has appeared to me in its true light 
— ' it passeth azcay? May we by every dispensa- 
tion of Providence be rendered more meet for the 
inheritance of the saints in light : in due time may 
we be clothed upon with our house which is from 
beaven. Present my kind respects to Mrs. and 
Miss Wilson. I hope you will try to visit Liver- 
pool by the time mentioned. Wishing much to se© 
you, I remain, dear Sir, 

*' Affectionatelv vour's, 

« THOMAS SPENCER." 



The day of ordination at length arrived. The 
chapel in which Mr. Spencer preached being but 
small, that service, which, amongst Dissenters of 
the congregational order, is remarkably solemn, 
was performed at the chapel in Byrom street, Liver- 
pool, which was handsomely granted to the peo- 
ple at Newington chapel for the purpose. It was 
indeed an interesting day. Tile services were com- 
menced by the Rev. William Evans, of Stockport, 
who read suitable portions of scripture, and im- 



chap. ii. LIFE OF SPENCER. 213 

plored the divine blessing upon the sacred engage- 
ments of the day. The Rev. Joseph Fletcher, 
M. A. of Blackburn, then delivered an admirable 
introductory discourse, and received from Mr. 
Spencer his confession of faith, together with an- 
swers to the questions usually, on such occasions, 
proposed to the minister to be ordained; Mr. Spen- 
cer then kneeling down, surrounded by his fathers 
and brethren in the ministry, the Rev. Joseph Cock- 
in, of Halifax, offered up the ordination prayer, 
accompanied by the imposition of hands. To this 
act of ordination succeeded a most impressive and 
affectionate charge from the Rev. William Hordle, 
of Harwich, Mr. Spencer's former tutor and friend. 
The passage on which this excellent address was 
founded was, Colossians, chap. iv. verse 17, ' Take 
heed to the ministry which thou hast received in the 
Lord, that thou fulfil it.' The Rev. William Rohy, 
of Manchester, preached to the people of Mr. Spen- 
cer's charge, upon the duties which devolved on 
them in the relation that day publicly recognized, 
from Galatians, chap. iv. verse 18, * It is good to 
be zealously affected always in a good thing.' The 
service was throughout most affecting and impres- 
sive ; it was characterized by a peculiar solemnity, 
both in the feelings of the ministers and the people. 
The tender frame and delicate mind of Spencer was 
nearly overwhelmed by the awful considerations 
which then pressed upon him. Had the melan- 
choly event which so rapidly succeeded this inter- 
esting service been at that time certainly announced, 
a seriousness more suitable to the occasion could 
hardly have been inspired ; and indeed in Mr. Hor- 
dle's charge there were passages which in the sad 
sequel of this history appear most singularly appro- 
priate — bordering even on the prophetic. One in 
particular deserves to be recorded : 

" You, my dear young brother, must die, and 



214 LIFE OF STENCEE. wm "** 

stand at the bar of God. Your ordination service 
may be only a prelude to your funeral service ; for 
what is man I Man is but of yesterday, and his 
days are as a shadow. How often have we seen 
the sun go down while it is yet day ! and while the 
church has been pleasing itself with the prospect of 
enjoying the pious fervent labours of an endeared 
minister for years, has an unexpected stroke sepa- 
rated them for ever. Mourning- survivors wonder- 
ing have said, * Verily thou art a God that hidest 
thyself, O God of Israel, the Saviour.'" 

Too often such remarks as these are allowed to 
pass unnoticed by the thoughtless — are merely con- 
sidered as expletives to supply the want of other 
matter — or splendid furniture to decorate and give 
effect to the address. The anticipation, though 
founded in reason, warranted by scripture, and au- 
thorized by experience, is yet unaccompanied by 
any certain assurance of the event it realizes ; and 
its connexion with any special decree of God is con- 
cealed from mortals. But there are seasons when 
the lips of holy men seem to utter something more 
than those vague admonitions of death, which, from 
their frequent recurrence, or the uncertainty of their 
immediate accomplishment, lose their power to im- 
press. And to those who admit the doctrine of 
divine influence upon the minds of men, and more 
especially upon such as are appointed to state and 
enforce the solemn doctrines of revelation to man- 
kind, it can be no source of astonishment that God 
should sometimes direct the thoughts and expres- 
sions of his ministers into a current adapted to cer- 
tain ends he has to answer, or particular events he 
intends shall shortly come to pass. With respect 
to the passage above cited, and its corresponding 
event, persons will form their own opinion. I can- 
not, however, but regard it as adding somewhat to 
the force and propriety of observations such as these 4 



ckap.ii. LIFE OP SPENCER. 215 

since here was another instance in which the event 
anticipated by the speaker as possible* though at 
the time, perhaps, regarded by the hearers as highly 
improbable, was but too surely realized. 

Mr. Spencer was now fully invested with that 
sacred office, which from his infancy he had desired ; 
and he set himself diligently to the discharge of its 
momentous duties. That he felt its importance, 
was evident to all. His habitual conduct and con- 
versation proved it. To his most intimate friends 
he freely expressed his anxieties respecting it, and 
earnestly did he implore an interest in the prayers 
of his people, and his brethren in the ministry. In 
the assurance that he laboured amongst a praying , 
people, he felt confidence : and no consideration is 
more adapted to relieve the mind of a faithful minis- 
ter than this — while it pours unseen a thousand 
blessings on his head, it secures to his labours an 
affectionate attention, and an earnest desire rightly 
to appreciate and improve them. That which per- 
sons make the subject of earnest prayer, they will 
usually value ; and it is hardly possible but that good 
must be the result, when both minister and people 
come from their closets, which have witnessed their 
fervent intercessions for each other, to the house of 
God. The apostle knew how to estimate the pray- 
ers even of the meanest Christians who enjoyed his 
labours. ' Brethren, pray for us.'* It is true that 
a people will for the most part take the cast of tht ir 
religious character from that of their minister : if Le 
be much alive to God, and zealous in the discharge 
of his ministry, he will communicate the sacred flame 
to all around him, and cause his people to reflect on 



• See an admirable sermon upon this subject by the Hev. William 
Jay, of Bath, preached at the settlement of the Rev. Henry Forster 
Burder, A. M. at Hackney. Every pious minister, who knows its 
worth, must wish to see this excellent discourse in the hands of his 
people. 



216 LIFE OF SPENCER. pabt tt*. 

every side the light his preaching* and his example 
shed. But on the other hand, are there no instances 
in which the reverse of this has been the case? The 
minister has been gradually disheartened and dispi- 
rited by a cold, supine, and worldly-minded people, 
who have continually thwarted him in his generous 
designs— counteracted his benevolent efforts- — and 
quenched, by indifference and neglect, the ardour 
of his zeal. Instead of assisting him in his glorious 
work, they have hung like weights about his gar- 
ments. Instead of acting as pioneers to prepare 
the paths of Christian benevolence for his willing 
feet to tread, they have clogged up the avenues with 
obstacles, and lined the way with insuperable diffi- 
culties. The spirit of the man has been broken by 
perpetual disappointment — vexation has gradually 
enervated his mind — and by slow and imperceptible 
degrees he has sunk into torpor and indifference — 
and the languor of the pastor has at length presented 
an unhappy counterpart to the supineness of the 
people. And even where neither the cause nor the 
consequences obtain to so alarming and fatal degree, 
still it is to be deplored that any approach to them 
should be suffered to exist. Here the stated attend- 
ants on a gospel ministry may often find a reason 
for that want of pleasure and improvement which 
sometimes they deplore, though most unjustly, at 
the preacher's cost. If prayer, special and fervent, 
for a blessing on their pastor's labours, has been 
neglected, the mystery is at once developed. For 
they have no right whatever to expect a blessing 
without prayer ; and as they have no right to ex- 
pect it without prayer, neither are they in a suitable 
frame to receive it; and thus it often happens, that 
where the prayerless soul departs empty away, the 
humble and earnest petitioner obtains a rich and 
suitable supply from the same table, and of the same 
Ibod. It is light bread to the one s but it is life- 



■cflAP.n. LI F E 0$ SPENCER. 217 

gi ving and substantial provision to the other. ' Ask, 
and ye shall receive,' 

On the first Sabbath in July Mr> Spencer dis- 
pensed, for the first time, the solemn ordinance of 
the Lord's supper. It was a time of love — a season 
of refreshing from the presence of the Lord* Tho 
sweet impression of that happy day still remains, 
and its memory is yet dear to many. On the fol- 
lowing Monday evening, at the social prayer meet- 
ing, in the bosom of his people, he again solemnly 
dedicated himself to God, and renewed his vows to 
consecrate all his powers to their service in the work 
of the ministry, Indeed, all he wrote, or said, or 
did, indicated the holy fervour of his soul. Tenderly 
alive to the sacred delicacy of his character, he was 
anxious to sustain it well, that the cause of Jesus 
might not suffer by any spots it might contract. 
Conscientiously awake to every call of duty which 
his most responsible station might involve, he was 
ready to obey them all — that the ministry might not 
be blamed. The following letter is from his corres- 
pondence about this time, and may be numbered 
with the last he ever wrote. The expressions which 
I have copied are mingled with others sacred to the 
privacy of friendship. — They promise pleasures never 
realized — unfold prospects suddenly destroyed — and 
#:eoord arrangements he was not permitted to fulfil. 



Letter XLVI. 
TO MR. HADDON. 



* Liverpool, July 8, 1811. 

* My dear Friend, 

W *7p ^ --ft" ^ 

" The ordination has, for the last fortnight, occu- 
pied almost the whole of my attention, and the 

L 



218 LIFE OF SPENCER. part in. 

impression, the solemn, the holy impression gf which 
I trust I shall never forget. Yesterday, for the first 
time in my life, I administered the ordinance of the 
Lord's supper, and found it to be indeed ' a time of 
refreshing from the presence of the Lord/ My 
duties are more and more important and pressing-. 
Conversations upon religious experience with can- 
didates for admission into our church, the baptism 
of children, and the calls of the sick and dying, must 
necessarily engage much of my attention. But I 
can sincerely bless God, that amidst all the depres- 
sion of mind I have suffered, my work has been my 
delight. The duties of the ministry have often 
refreshed, instead of oppressing me. The pleasure 
of the Lord has prospered in my hands. I love the 
service of the Head of the church better than ever 
I did : when I am watering others, I find that Jeho- 
vah the Spirit waters my own soul too. Oh, is not 
this an encouraging token for good? 
" In great haste, 
" I am ever your affectionate friend, 

« THOMAS SPENCER," 



In the mean time, Mr. Spencer was not confined 
to his own pulpit. He gave his brethren in the 
ministry tokens of his affectionate regard, by offici- 
ating for them in their respective places : and he 
also made several excursions into the country. Mr. 
Spencer did not encourage the idea, that as he had 
become by voluntary consecration the minister of a 
particular church, the church in general had now 
lost every claim upon his kind attention. Nor were 
the people amongst whom he laboured of a disposi- 
tion so selfish and narrow, as to wish to confine his 
exertions exclusively to the spot they occupied. 
That the Jirst and constant regards of a pastor are 



«"ap ii. LIFE OF SPENCER. 219 

clue to the people of his charge, none can dispute ; 
but with the work of the pastor, to a certain extent, 
may with the greatest propriety be associated that 
of an evangelist. There are surrounding- districts 
that will often cry to him for help, which he is bound 
to render : there are destitute societies to whom he 
must minister consolation and instruction, in token 
of his brotherly love — and there are interchanges of 
friendship, which promote union, which relieve the 
mind, and which will ever be found beneficial to the 
-churches by whom they are encouraged. Inter- 
course with society informs the judgment — corrects 
the views, and expands the mind. Long labour in 
one appointed sphere, however important and de- 
lightful, and especially where all the powers of the 
mind arc ever on the stretch, must produce at length 
weariness, sameness, and monotony. A visit to 
another scene — intercourse with other connexions 
— refreshes and revives the wasted spirits and the 
weary frame. And the church, however they may 
value their pastor's ministry and regret his absence, 
•will not be losers in the end by the temporary priva* 
iion they may suffer. 



CHAP. III. 

An aceount of the last week he spent on eartfa. 

WE must, however reluctant, pass on to the closing 
scenes of Mr. Spencer's life. As his death was sud- 
den, I have none of those sayings or sentiments to 
record which occupy the last pages of most biogra- 
phical sketches of departed saints. And yet Ins 
friends remember, with peculiar pleasure, in what a 
holy frame of mind he appeared to be during the 
whole of the week previous to his^ removal. If I 
should be more minute than may be deemed abso- 
lutely necessary in what remains of these imperfect 
memoirs of this lovely youth, I trust that I shall be 
forgiven. I write for friendship : and to his friends 
it must afford peculiar gratification to follow him 
through all the scenes he visited, and mark the 
slightest movements of his mind during the last 
week of his residence on earth. 

On Sabbath day, July 28th, being the day ap- 
pointed for a collection for the new chapel, Mr. 
Spencer preached a most excellent sermon in the 
morning from Ezra, chap. ix. verse 8, ' And now 
for a little space grace hath been shewed from the 
Lord our God to leave us a remnant to escape, and 
to grive us a nail in his holy place, that our God may 
lighten our eyes, and give us a little reviving in our 
bondage/ In the evening his text was, Acts, chap, 
xiii. verse 26, ' To you is the word of this salvation 
sent.' On that day he exerted himself greatly, and 
complained much of a pain at his heart, but did not 



chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 221 

seem at night particularly fatigued. The following' 
day he spent chiefly in conversation with his friends 
respecting the state of the church, and some candi- 
dates for communion who were to he visited and 
received during that, week — he dined at the house 
of a friend — in the afternoon visited the sick room 
of one of his members — and in the evening attended 
the prayer meeting at the chapel, when he recapi- 
tulated the outline of a sermon which had been 
preached on the Wednesday evening preceding, by 
the Rev. Mr. Davies, of Loudon. His memory 
was remarkably retentive, and he gave in that ex- 
ercise a proof of its powers which astonished all 
that heard him. He slept that night in Liverpool, 
and early on Tuesday morning he went with a friend 
to Prescot, and laid the foundation stone of a new 
chapel there, and delivered an address adapted to 
the occasion, in the presence of a large assembly. 
From the ground he retired to the house of a gen- 
tleman in Prescot, whose child he then baptized, and 
so proceeded immediately to St. Helen's, a town 
about four miles distant, where he preached in the 
evening. On Wednesday afternoon he returned, 
much fatigued, to Liverpool, but preached in the 
evening with great animation, from a text selected 
for him by one of the young persons of his church. 
Revelation, chap. ii. 4, ' Nevertheless, I have 
somewhat against thee, because thou hast left thy 
first love/ The Rev. Mr. Wray, the missionary at 
Demerara, was then in Liverpool, and was at the 
chapel. A friend who saw Mr. Spencer in the ves- 
try after service, observed him to be much exhaust- 
ed, and heard him say for the first time, " Oh, I 
did not feel comfortable in seeing a brother minister 
in the congregation this evening." Usually he did 
not fear the face of man. On Thursday, about noon, 
one of his deacons called upon him at his residence, 
and he was occupied the whole day with him in visit- 



222 LIFE OF SFEMCEE. part tit. 

ing those who were to be received into the Ghurch; 
his conversations with the respective candidates 
were truly admirable and appropriate, and such as- 
will remain in the grateful memory of those who had 
the happiness to enjoy them. On Friday he was 
occupied until the afternoon in writing letters to his- 
friends. I am able to present the reader with ex- 
tracts from two of them. 

" August, 2, nn. 
" I find growing pleasure in my ministerial 
employment; this evening I have to admit eight new 
members to church communion ; indeed when I ac- 
cepted this situation, I never conceived that I should 
have half the engagements or duties to attend to 
which I now find must be accomplished, if I would 
merit the character of an active, useful minister of 
religion. I think my recent afflictions, and the 
solemn duties which now devolve upon me, have, in 
k considerable degree, chastened my character, and 
imparted, perhaps, a seriousness to my general de- 
portment, which may prove highly advantageous to 
jne in future life. How long this will last I cannot 
tell, but I think affliction adds a weight to a cha- 
racter nothing else does, and especially to young 
people and young ministers. I have lately been 
preaching in the villages round Liverpool. Oh, let 
us aim to glorify God, and then trust all our con- 
cerns in his hands, that so at the last we may be 
accepted of him." 

In another, to his father, he says : 

" I was much hurt at the account of my mother's* 
illness ; I hope no distressing circumstances have 
arisen; and by this time, perhaps, I may indulge 
the idea that you are better yourself. Oh ! how 
necessary that we should all seek a better country, 

* His step^mothcr. 



chap. in. X1FE OF SPENCER. 223 

since here there is so much change, affliction', and 
woe. May every trial be sanctified to us all, and 
we be meetened for the inheritance of the saints in 
light." 

Having concluded his earthly correspondence 
with his distant friends, for ever,* he left his resi- 
dence, and resumed his pastoral visits amongst his 
people, and the candidates who were to be that 
evening received. At the church meeting he was 
particularly lively; with holy joy he welcomed the 
new members into the communion of the church, 
and as he gave to each the right hand of fellowship, 
he addressed a short but most affectionate and so- 
lemn exhortation, admirably adapted to their respec- 
tive ages, stations, and feelings. Indeed all the 
duties of the pastors office were conducted by him 
with a propriety and an ease which years of expe- 
rience are frequently unable to supply. With the 
unaffected simplicity of youth he tempered the dig- 
nity of age — he seemed to be at once at home in the 
duties of his new and important station — never em- 
barrassed or confused : he appeared to have an 
intuitive perception of what belonged to his charac- 
ter and office, in every case as it arose; and following- 
the inward suggestion, he acquitted himself well, 
and discharged, with undeviatiug consistency, the 
high responsibilities he bore. 

After the meeting, Mr. Spencer spent the evening 
in serious conversation with a few friends ; leading 
with great fervour the devotions of the family, and 

• His correspondence with his beloved and honoured parent is 
renewed. Spencer's father sleeps the sleep of death ; his body rests 
in his bed, but his spirit walks in its uprightness. He was a venera. 
ble saint. Few have felt the pressure of trials such as his, and few 
have displayed a spirit more uncomplaining and resigned. He walked 
with God. Repeatedly before his departure he assured his family 
that he was going to glory. And on the 25th of December, 1812, his 
happy spirit was dismissed to the enjoyment of its rest. 



224 XJFE OF SPENCER. jmrt Hi, 

dosing a day of sacred duties with uncommon calm- 
ness and placidity of mind. 

The following mornings Saturday, he spent in his 
study in preparations for the pulpit. In the course 
©f the day he wrote to a young lady, one of the num- 
ber received, the preceding evening, into his church 
— at the close of the note he said, — 

" I suppose you anticipate to-morrow with feel- 
ings of solemnity. You will appear in a new light 
to the church of Christ, and the spectators of our 
holy solemnities ; we shall share to-morrow Zion's 
chief feast. May the blessing of the God of ordi- 
nances be upon us all. Wishing you the enjoyment 
of perfect health, and much communion with your 
best Friend, 

" I remaim^Scc. 

"THOMAS SPENCER," 

After dinner on the Saturday, the conversation 
turned upon a passage in Ezekiel — " I will cause: 
you to pass under the rod, and I will bring you into 
the bond of the covenant ;" from which Mr. Spencer 
took occasion to speak much at large upon the na- 
ture and stability of the covenant of grace. In the 
evening he met the Rev. Messrs. Charrier, Lister* 
and Wray, the missionary, together with Mr. Laird* 
of Greenock, and others, at the house of a friend* 
It was a pleasant interview, and in reflection has 
afforded to the persons who composed that social 
party the sincerest pleasure. To his most intimate 
friends, it is a source of much satisfaction that his 
pastoral engagements that week were such as every 
day to bring him into their society — so that they had 
constant intercourse with their departed friend — 
and passing with him from house to house can look 
back and say, * did not our hearts burn within us 
while he talked to us by the way, and opened unto 
\ts the scriptures !' — —Like the companion of Eli- 



chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 225 

jah, they walked with him in close connexion from 
spot to spot, charmed and edified with the holy 
strain of his discourse, and the rising lustre of his 
character; but all unconscious, that whilst they 
were thus conversing with him upon earth, the cha- 
riot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof were pre- 
paring to conduct him triumphantly to heaven. 

But the scene closes rapidly upon us. — On the 
last Sabbath of his life, August 4th, he rose with 
unusual health and spirits. The family with whom 
he resided always beheld him with peculiar interest 
on the morning of the Sabbath, — such an air of 
angelic mildness and composure sat upon his coun- 
tenance — and so deeply did he seem absorbed in 
the contemplation of the sacred duties of the day. 
That morning he preached from Jeremiah, chap, 
xxxi. verse 3, ' I have loved thee with an everlast- 
ing love, therefore with loving kindness have I 
drawn thee.' The way of his discussing the subject 
was simple and interesting : I have drawTi thee — to 
the cross — to the throne — to the church — were the 
leading ideas in the discourse. It was particularly 
adapted to the occasion, so many new members 
being that day added to the church. He afterwards 
administered the Lord's supper in a most impressive 
and affecting manner. Such as beheld the scene — 
and the number of spectators was about three hun- 
dred — bear an unanimous testimony to the deep 
solemnity by which it was characterized. His ap- 
peals to the conscience were so close and over- 
whelming — his invitations to the faint and weary 
were so pressing and tender — -his countenance — Ins 
voice — his whole manner — were so expressive of 
holy fervour, that every eye was fixed — every heart 
seemed moved. How long the impression will re- 
main I cannot tell ; but the emotions enkindled by 
the transactions of that day are yet lively in the 
hearts of many — and numbers love to converse upon 
1*2 



226 LIFE OF spencer; «*** nu 

it, as one of those rare and highly favoured seasons, 
in which the distance between earth and heaven 
seems annihilated — and so transporting- is the joy, 
that whether hi the body or wit of the body, the 
happy Christian can scarcely tell. To a friend, who 
afterwards hinted that he appeared to be very happy 
in prayer at the Lord's supper, he replied, "• (> 
yes; I thought I could have prayed, and prayed, 
and mounted up to heaven !" At the close of that- 
memorable service — one, the ardour of whose feel- 
ings age had checked, observed, that " Mr. Spencer 
seemed that morning twenty years older in expe- 
rience than he really was." At dinner he mentioned 
to the family, that he had received that morning a 
letter from a friend in London, who had been for- 
merly reluctant to his settlement in Liverpool, as 
though it were not the sphere designed by Provi- 
dence for him. He then expressed the full convic- 
tion of his own mind, that he was precisely where he 
ought to be— under such an impression, he observed, 
that he was perfectly satisfied and happy; and added, 
" if it had not been the will of God, I should never 
have settled here." 

In the evening, in the midst of a throng, such as 
is rarely witnessed, and from which hundreds de- 
parted unable to gain access, he preached from 
Luke, chap. x. verse 42, '. One thing is needful, 
and Mary hath chosen that good part which shall 
not be taken away from her/ His chief object in 
this sermon was to shew, that communion with the 
Saviour is the one thing needful. Throughout the 
whole discourse, it seemed as if all the powers of 
his mind — all the ardour of his soul — were infused 
into his composition and his delivery. In the appli- 
cation, he was uncommonly urgent with the young 
— earnestly exhorting them to an immediate decision 
©n the side of Christ — representing to them the 
tolly and the clauger of deferring the important con- 



chap. in. LIFE OP SPENCER. 227 

cerns of salvation and eternity to an uncertain fu- 
turity — and assuring- them, tliatrm/ soon he should 
meet them at the bar of God, and that there he 
should be a swift witness against them. 

It was observed by those who were best able to 
form an opinion on the subject, that his last sermon 
was, perhaps, the most adapted for usefulness of any 
he had preached. This observation, which was 
made immediately after its delivery, has been since 
confirmed in a most remarkable and affecting- man- 
ner. — Instances are still perpetually occurring- of 
the deep impression produced by that discourse ; 
and not a few, who are now members of the church 
over which he presided, have dated their first serious 
thoughts from that memorable evening-. Indeed, 
the admonitions then with so much earnestness deli- 
vered, though in themselves peculiarly solemn, were 
rendered doubly so by the sad event of the succeed- 
ing morning-. And I believe that it is not too much 
to say, that, like another Samson, he slew more at 
his death than in his life. 

After the labours of the day he went to the house 
of a friend to supper ; he did not appear to be un- 
usually fatigued. With great fervour he Jed the 
devotions of the family. He read a portion of 
scripture, and gave out the 165th hymn of the second 
book. He was remarkably copious and earnest in 
prayer — commending- especially to God — the family 
—the church — the members who had recently joined 
— the missionary, (who was present) and every object 
to which his holy and benevolent mind recurred. 
At supper the conversation was pure and spiritual 
— such as the book of remembrance in heaven pre- 
serves — such as will not easily be forgotten upon 
earth. The subject was sudden death. The coun- 
tenance of Spencer, always animated, was lighted 
up with holy joy as he discoursed upon the glory of 
departed saints — he seemed to realize the scenes he 



228 LIFE OF SPENCER. PARTiir, 

attempted to describe,, whilst he expressed his own 
conceptions of the transport and surprize in which 
the disembodied spirit will be lost when first admit- 
ted to the immediate presence of God. He spoke 
much upon the blessedness of putting 1 off the gar- 
ments of mortality in a moment, and being caught 
up unexpectedly and instantaneously to heaven. 
He appeared to lose the memory of the day's fatigue 
in the interesting theme, and frequently observed, 
that he had not for a long time felt himself so free 
from weariness. A little after eleven he parted with 
his friends, as it regards this world, for ever. Never- 
did they discover more of the warmth of his friend- 
ship, or the ardour of his piety, than in this last 
happy interview. His countenance was eradiated 
with smiles of ineffable benignity — his whole deport- 
ment indicated a mind abstracted from the world, 
except so far as bound to it by the benevolent de- 
sire of doing good, and wholly devoted to com- 
jrhunion and fellowship with God. So mature 
indeed did his character appear — so ripe did he 
seem for glory, that some of his friends could not 
but entertain a presentiment of his early removal. 
Though not then elevated to a higher sphere, he 
still appeared mysteriously weaned from earth. His 
loins were girt, and his lamp burning with unusual 
brightness, as though he expected the coming of 
his Lord. In its anticipations of future glory, his 
happy spirit seemed to try its pinions preparatory 
to the glorious flight it was about to take* 



CHAP. IV. 



Circumstances of his death. 



ON Monday morning, August the 5th — the last day 
that dawned for him, he rose rather later than usual; 
his mind was too active for his body :• the exhausted 
frame required rest. After breakfast, he received a 
visit from a young lady, one of the members lately 
admitted into the church. He entered the room with 
a cheerful smile ; and the family having retired, after 

some general conversation he said, " Well, M — r 

you are now a member of a Christian church ; yes- 
terday you solemnly professed your faith in Christ,, 
while the attention of many of our fellow creatures 
was fixed on you ; God also beheld your profession 
—all heaven and hell witnessed the solemnity." On 
her expressing some fears lest she should be unable 
to act consistently with the profession she had made^ 
he replied,. " Live near to Christ — be much in com- 
munion with your own heart — be very frequent in 
addresses at a throne of grace, and there is no fear 
of you." Then referring to the long and agonizing 
distress which he had suffered through the alarming 
indisposition of his dearest connexions, and which 
seemed now happily removing, he said, " This se- 
vere affliction has not been sent but for reasons the 
wisest and the best ; from it I have learned many 
lessons, and have enjoyed much of the presence of 
God under it. O may my heart be filled with grati- 
tude to him who is the author of all our mercies." 
He frequently bathed: he found it beneficial to 



230 LIFE OF SPENCER. rART '«• 

his health. He purposed doing so that day, and 
had expressed his intention in the morning. He 
had just repeated the first verse of Cowper's admi- 
rable hymn, — 

" God moves in a mysterious way, 

His wonders to perform ; 
He plants his footsteps in the sea, 

And rides upon the storm,' — ■> 

when one of the family came into the room and said, 
that if he intended bathing it was time that he 
should go, as it would very soon be high water. 
He assented ; but whilst a towel was being pro- 
cured for him, he turned to his young friend and 
said, " I can't tell how it is, but I don't feel so 
much inclined to go to-day as usual." She asked 
if it was thought good for his health — he answered 
*t Yes, it will brace my nerves after the exertion of 
yesterday/' And indeed he had an immediate 
object in view, for he had folded his paper, and 
prepared his pen, in order to compose a sermon to 
he preached in the course of the ensuing week, on 
behalf of the Religious Tract Society'.* and he was 
anxious that, by hashing, his mind might be invigo- 
rated for study, as he had frequently observed it 
to have that pleasing influence. Mr. Spencer and 
his friend left the house together, when turning 
towards the water, he said, " I must go this way." 
They parted. — His friend sought again the bosom 
of her family — he went the way whence he never 
returned. 

The following pages of this history must be filled 
with weeping, and lamentation, and woe. They 
must detail as sad a catastrophe as ever humanity 
or religion mourned. With cheerfulness Mr. Spen- 

* His friend had sent him the speeches delivered at the Breakfast 
meeting of the Tract Society in London, which he had taken 
down for him. They were remarkably interesting that year, and 
the perusal of them had determined him to preach for the institution 



chap.iv. LIFE OF SPENCER. 231 

eer took the path which leads across the fields to- 
wards the Ilerculaneum potteries, a little above 
which it was his design to bathe. The eye of his 
friend, beneath whose roof he dwelt, followed him 
till distance hid him from his sight. Arrived at the 
spot which he had selected, not so much from a 
knowledge of the ground, as from the circumstance 
of its retirement, he asked a gentleman, who had 
been bathing, and who then was dressing, " if that 
was a good place to bathe at i" he answered that 
it was, but that it was rather stony near the side, 
but better when further in. Mr. Spencer replied, 
" I rather think that it is a good place myself; 
and I don't like to bathe near the pottery, there 
are so many people." Mr. S. then asked again, 
" Is the tide nigh up?" to which he was answered, 
" About half past eleven." " Oh dear!" said he 
" it is near twelve." — As this conversation passed, 
Mr. Spencer was undressing, and, at intervals, 
humming a tune. When undressed, he walked 
towards the water, and spoke to a workman be- 
longing to the pottery, of the name of Potter, who 
also was bathing, and who directed him which way 
to come into the water. While walking in, Mr. 
Spencer observed, that it was very cold— to which 
Potter replied, " You will not find it so cold when 
in." Potter then plunged into the water about 
breast high, and when he next saw Mr. Spencer, 
he was swimming within his depth; but soon after- 
wards the tide swept him round an abrupt projecting 
rock, where the water was from six to seven feet. 
Potter himself, who is an expert swimmer, soon 
found the current driving him round the same rock; 
but he immediately, with difficulty, swam to the 
shore, when he looked about for Mr. Spencer, and, 
not seeing him, w r as much alarmed. At length, 
after the lapse of a minute or two, he saw the top 
of his head floating above the surface of the water. 



232 LIFE OF SPENCER. ^ ARr «'• 

Potter could not tell whether he was amusing him- 
self or drowning. He however cried out to him ; 
but receiving" no answer, plunged in again, and 
swam to the rock in order to render him assistance 
— but found it impossible — Mr. Spencer having 
sunk in seven feet water, and the currents being 
remarkably strong. Potter, with considerable trou- 
ble, and not till some time had elapsed, got up the 
side of the rock, and communicated the intelligence 
to Mr. Smith, of the potteries, who immediately 
ordered out two boats, which were directly manned 
and brought to the spot, when every exertion was 
made to find the body. 

I have frequently examined the place : indeed, I 
take a mournful pleasure in visiting the scene ; and 
I have sought the opinion of medical gentlemen 
respecting the immediate cause of Mr. Spencer's 
death. The spot is most unfavourable for safe and 
pleasant bathing. Whoever sees it at low water, is 
astonished that any person, acquainted with the 
nature of the shore, should venture there. Tliete is 
a ridge of sharp and slippery rock, running in a 
curved direction, for many yards, into the water, 
and terminating abruptly. . On either side of this 
rugged ridge the fall is instantaneous, and from one 
to two feet. It is highly probable, then, that Mr* 
S. swimming, as was described, along by the shore, 
might bring himself up immediately on the edge of 
this treacherous rock, which being slippery, deceived 
him, and by suddenly precipitating him into deeper 
water, caused a spasmodick fear — a combination of 
instantaneous terror and spasm, — which directly 
suspended the functions of life, and he sunk, with- 
out further agitation or conflict, in the arms of death* 

" So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, 
And yet, anon, repairs his drooping head, 
And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore: 
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky ■• 
So Lycidas sunk low x hut mounted high. 



chap. xv. LIFE OF SPENCER. 233 

Through the dear might of Him that walk'd the waves ; 

Where, other groves and other streams along, 

With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, 

And hears the, unexpressive nuptial song. 

In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. 

There entertain him, all the saints above, 

In solemn troops and sweet societies 

That sing, and singing in their glory, move, 

And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes." 

In the mean while, the gentleman whom Mr. 
Spencer first addressed, returned, and, discovering 
the sad event, apprized them that it was Mr. Spen- 
cer who was lost. Potter renewed his exertions to 
find the body, assisted by the people in the boats, 
in which they at length succeeded, after it had been 
under water about fifty minutes. By this time the 
melancholy tidings had spread abroad ; and happily 
some gentlemen of the faculty being in the neigh- 
bourhood, and hearing of the event, hastened imme- 
diately to the spot, so that, ere the finding of the 
body, every thing was in readiness for instantly 
commencing the resuscitating process. 

When drawn from the water* the body exhibited 
no symptoms of violence or struggle in the act of 
dying — the countenance was placid and serene — its 
features were perfectly undisturbed, and so lovely 
was its expression in death, that one of the medical 
attendants observed,-^ painter could not desire a 
finer object ! 

On the arrival of the body on the beach, the water 
was easily expelled, and being then wrapped up in 
flannel, it was immediately conveyed to the house of 
Mr. Smith, where, by the kind exertions of the fa- 
mily, every necessary arrangement had been made 
for its reception. 

The apparatus having arrived from Liverpool, 
and three medical gentlemen . being present, the 
usual methods adopted in cases of suspended ani- 
mation were instantly pursued. They were soon 
joined by three other gentlemen of the faculty, who 
I 



234 LIFE OF SPACER. r ^ RT »«• 

rendered every possible assistance; every expedient 
was, in the course of the afternoon, resorted to — 
but, alas ! in vain — and at five o'clock, in the opi- 
nion of all present, there remained not the faintest 
hope of restoring animation — the spark of life was 
totally extinguished. 

Thus, in one sad moment, was lost to society and 
to the church of Christ, one of the loveliest of men 
— one of the most eloquent of preachers: upon 
whose lips, only the preceding- day, hundreds had 
hung' with delight, and the long continued and ex- 
tended exertion of whose nowers, in a larsrer sane- 
tuary, the foundation of which he had but recently 
laid, thousands anticipated with eager desire ! To 
tell how many hearts have bled beneath this awful 
visitation, would require a fortitude which I do not 
possess — and constitute a volume, not surpassed, in 
the anguish which it would describe, by any similar 
catastrophe in the records of human woe. The 
tidings spread through the populous town of Liver- 
pool with a rapidity, such as, in cases of public ca- 
lamity, is usually excited. They circulated through 
all ranks, and inspired one common feeling of regret 
in every bosom. They reached the exchange, and 
produced an extraordinary impression there; those 
who knew him, mourned the loss of one they loved — 
and those who knew him not, felt the agitation of 
that sudden shock, which the premature removal of 
such men occasions — they participated in the gene- 
ral sympathy — and deplored the loss of Spencer as 
an event demanding general regret. Numbers 
hastened to the spot. Some, incredulous, to obtain 
the sad assurance of the truth — and others, to enjoy 
the mournful satisfaction of beholding that counte- 
nance in death, on which they had often gazed with 
transport, when kindled into radiance by the ardour 
of the soul that lately animated it. All was confu- 
sion and distress. SuchadavhasbeeD seldom seeft 



chap. iv. LIFE OP SPENCER 235 

in Liverpool : a day of such dreadful gloom — such 
universal grief. From the countenance of every 
one, to whom the tidings came, one might have 
imagined he had lost a brother or a friend ; — whilst 
many, to whom by intimate acquaintance he had 
become peculiarly endeared — petrified at first with 
mingled horror and surprise, when recollection and 
feeling returned, yielded to the influence of the 
deepest sorrow. 

The estimation in which Mr. Spencer was held in 
Liverpool, was most decidedly marked after his de- 
cease. The public prints severally bore testimony 
to his worth, and pronounced a warm, but just eulo- 
gium on his extraordinary merits. The introduction 
of some extracts will not be imsuitable'here. 

" Mr. Spencer was about twenty years of age ; 
in his person and countenance eminently prepos- 
sessing ; and of manners most amiable, conciliating, 
and engaging. As a preacher, his talents were 
held in a degree of estimation, and possessed an ex- 
tent of influence, which have seldom been equalled 
in the annals of pulpit eloquence. His discourses 
were rather persuasive and hortatory, than argumen- 
tative or disquisitive : they were addressed more to 
the imagination and affections, than to the judgment; 
and this, apparently, not so much from any defi- 
ciency of talent, as from a firm persuasion, that, in 
matters of religion, the avenues to the understanding 
are chiefly to be sought in the heart. His sermons, 
thus constituted, were adorned with a felicity of 
expression, and delivered in an unremitted fluency 
of language, altogether surprising in extempora- 
neous discourses. These essential qualities of elo- 
quence were assisted by an uncommonly distinct 
articulation, a tone of voice singularly melodious, 
and great gracefulness of action. Thus gifted by 
nature, and improved by cultivation, it is. not sur- 
prising that he possessed the power of attaching an 



LIFE OF SPENCER. PART »»• 

audience in a manner that will never be forgotten 
by those who attended his ministry. Perhaps it 
scarcely ever before fell to the lot of any individual, 
at so early an age, to have diffused religious impres- 
sion through so extensive a circle of hearers ; and 
those who looked forward to the maturity of his pow- 
ers, with the hope naturally inspired by his early ex- 
cellence, will regard his loss as a public misfortune." 

" The deceased was about twenty years of age, 
a youth of amiable and engaging manners ; and his 
pulpit talents were so far above his years as to 
obtain for him a large share of public admiration 
and popularity. His premature death has most 
deeply affected the feelings of his numerous friends, 
who looked forward to the maturity of his early 
powers, with the highest hope of obtaining in him a 
most valuable accession to the dissenting ministry." 

But at the solemnities of interment, the strongest 
demonstration of public feeling was afforded. The 
concourse of people assembled to witness or assist 
in the last sad token of respect to his remains, was 
never, perhaps, equalled in Liverpool. Religion, 
humanity, friendship, and genius, mingled their 
tears at his grave. The funeral took place on 
Tuesday, the 13th August, 181 L: the procession 
moved from the Park about eleven in the mornings 
in the following order : 

The Gentlemen of the Faculty; 
Ministers, four abreast; 

The Pall, supported by ten Ministers, five on each 

side ; 

The Mourners ; 

Friends of the Deceased, 

To the number of One Hundred and Thirty, 

With white Hat-bands and Gloves, 

Six abreast. 



chap. iv. LIFE OF SPENCER. 237 

All the streets through which the procession pass- 
ed, were crowded to excess, as also were the win- 
dows and balconies of the houses. But the greatest 
decorum was observed — and a seriousness, accord- 
ing with the solemn occasion, was manifested by all. 
The corpse was borne into the chapel, late the scene 
of Mr. Spencer's labours, and the Rev. Mr. Charrier, 
of Bethesda chapel, read part of the 1 5th chapter of 
the 1st epistle to the Corinthians, and the 4th and 
5th chapters of the 1st epitstle to the Thessalonians, 
and offered a most solemn prayer. At the grave an 
eloquent and impressive oration was delivered by 
the Rev. Joseph Fletcher, A. M. of Blackburn. 
The mournful service was concluded by a prayer 
from the Rev. Mr. .Lister, of lame-street chapel. 

" The whole scene," a Liverpool journal ob- 
serves, " was affecting — it could not be otherwise. 
Every idea which could be associated with the 
spectacle was such as to excite the deepest sympa- 
thy. The flower of youth, scarcely opened, snatched 
from the stem of life by a sudden and rude attack 
of mortality ; a minister, who lately fixed the atten- 
tion of crowded audiences by the power of his elo- 
quence, conveyed to the house of silence and 
darkness; the fairest prospects of honour and use- 
fulness in life blasted ; the warm hopes of his friends 
wrecked in a moment; and the deep, the dreadful 
wound inflicted in the feelings of relatives, and the 
dearest connexions. Such, however, are the ap- 
pointments of a supreme governing Intelligence, to 
which human choice and wishes must bow with 
reverence, supported by the general principle of the 
justice, wisdom, and benevolence, which direct the 
affairs of men. Similar afflictions are of frequent 
occurrence in private life, though they there pass 
unnoticed. Public characters excite attention both 
in their zettiib and fall; and so far as society is be- 
... 



238 LIFE OF srENCKR. pari in, 

reft of virtue, useful talents, and active zeal, their 
death is a public calamity." 

On the following- Sunday evening a funeral ser- 
mon was preached at Newington chapel by the 
Rev. Wm. Roby, of Manchester, from Hebrews 
xiii. 7, 8, ' Remember them which have the rule 
over you, who have spoken unto you the word of 
God; whose, faith follow, considering the end of 
their conversation, Jesus Christ, the same yester- 
day, and to-day, and for ever.' This sermon, so admi- 
rably adapted to sooth the disconsolate congregation 
to whom it was addressed, has been presented to 
them, by its respected author, from the press. 

But not in Liverpool alone was the shock of Mr. 
Spencer's death felt — or the loss occasioned by his 
sudden, removal deplored. Scarcely was there a 
district in Britain, to which the melancholy tidings 
did not reach. The universal esteem in which the 
beloved youth was held, was manifested by the nu- 
merous sermons which were preached throughout 
the country, to embalm his memory, and to improve 
his death. In London several were delivered, — 
many singularly eloquent and appropriate ; several 
have issued from the press, and have been noticed 
in the preceding pages. Nor was the sympathy 
awakened for the mourning church less general 
than the regret occasioned by their pastor's death. 
- — Of Spencer it may be truly said, ' devout men 
carried him to his burial, and made great lamenta- 
tion over him,' whilst the situation of his bereaved 
people excited in every bosom compassion andgriefi 
* for they were left as sheep without a shepherd,' 



I am happy in being able to close this sad recital 
with a poem, most tenderly adapted to the mournful 
theme, for which I am indebted to the elegant pen 



chap. iv. LIKE OF SPENCER. 239 

bf Mr. James Montgomery, to the exquisite pro- 
ductions of whose genius Mr. Spencer was peculi- 
arly attached. 

VERSES 

t)n the death of the Rev. Thomas Spencer, of 
Liverpool, who was drowned in bathing in the 
tide, August 5, 1811. 



" Thy way is in the sea, and thy path in the ojreat waters ; and 
thy footsteps are not known."— Psalm lxxvii. verse 19. 



I will not sing a mortal's praise ; 
To Thee I consecrate the lays, 
To whom my pow'rs belong ; 
These gifts, upon thine altar strown, 

God accept — accept thine own : 
My gifts are thine ; be thine alone 

The glory of my song. 

In earth and ocean, sky and air, 
All that is excellent and fair, 

Seen, felt, or understood, 
From one eternal Cause descends, 
To one eternal Centre tends ; 
With God begins, continues, ends ; 

The source and stream of good. 

1 worship not the sun at noon, 

The wand'ring stars, the changing moon, 
The wind, the flood, the flame; 

I will not bow the votive knee 

To wisdom, virtue, liberty ; 

u There is no god but God" for me; 
Jehovah is his name. 



240 LIFE OP SPENCER. >art«i. 

Him through all nature I explore ; 
Him, in his creatures, I adore, 

Around, beneath, above; 
But clearest in the human mind^ 
His bright resemblance when I find, 
Orandeur with purity combin'd, 

I most admire and love, 

O there was One- — on earth awhile 
He dwelt ; but transient as a smile 

That turns into a tear; 
His beauteous image pass'd us by; 
He came like lightning from the sky, 
He seem'd as dazzling to the eye, 

As prompt to disappear. 

Sweet in his tmdissembling mien 
Were genius, candour, meekness, seen, 

The lips that lov'd the truth ; 
The single eye, whose glance sublime 
Look'd to eternity through time ; 
The soul, whose thoughts were wont to climb 

Above the hopes of youth. 

Of old,* before the lamp grew tlark, _ 
Reposing near the sacred Ark, 

The child of Hannah's prayer 
Heard, 'midst the temple's silent round, 
A living voice ; nor knew the sound 
That thrice alarm'd him ere he found 

The Lord, who chose him there. 

Thus early call'd, and strongly mov'd, 
A prophet from a child appro v'd, 
Spencer his course began ; 

I. Samuel iii. 3. 



iv. LI FJS OJ? SPENCER. 241 

From strength to strength, from graoe to grace, 
Swiftest and foremost in the race, 
He carried vict'ry in his face, 
He triumph'd while he ran. 

How short his day ! — the glorious prize, 
To our slow hearts and failing eyes, 

Appeard too quickly won : 
The warrior rush'd into the field, 
With arm invincible, to wield 
The Spirit's sword, the Spirit's shield. 

When lo ! the fight was done. 

The loveliest star of evening's train 
Sets early in the western main, 

And leaves the world in night ; 
The brightest star of morning's host, 
Scarce ris'n, in brighter beams is lost. 
Thus sunk his form on ocean's coast, 

Thus sprang his soul to light. 

WTio shall forbid the eye to weep 
That saw him, from the ravening deep, 

Pluck'd like the lion's prey? 
For ever bow'd his honour'd head, 
The spirit in a moment fled, 
The heart of friendship cold and dead, 

The limbs a wreath of clay. 

Hevolving his mysterious lot, 

I mourn him, but I praise him not ; 

To God the praise be giv'n, 
Who sent him, — like the radiant bow, 
His covenant of peace to show, 
Athwart the passing storm to glow, 

Then vanish into heaven. 



M 



242 LIFE OF SPENCER. part in. 

O Church ! to whom the youth was dear, 
The angel of thy mercies hear, 

Behold the path he trod ; 
A " milky way" through midnight skies ! 
Behold the grave in which he lies : 
E'en from the dust the prophet cries, 

M Prepare to meet thy God." 



PART IV. 



CHAP. I. 

♦ Review of Mr Spencer's Character. 

IT now remains that I present the reader with a 
general sketch of Mr. Spencer s character. Tha 
opportunity afforded in such works as these, of illus- 
trating great and important principles, in their influ- 
ence upon human conduct, ought to be seized with 
avidity, and improved with care. In this respect 
Biography is particularly valuable, and possesses a 
considerable advantage over general history. Tho 
subjects and characters of general history are nu- 
merous, complicated, and often but indistinctly seen; 
— here the object is single. The mind dwells, 
without diversion or distraction, on the character 
presented to its contemplation. Being relieved 
from the toil which variety occasions, it has leisure 
to dwell upon its several features, and to observe 
their mutual influence, or associated harmony. The 
scenes and events of an individual's life, when faith- 
fully and judiciously recorded, are admirably adapted 
to develope the formation of character — whilst les- 
sons of wisdom, and principles of action are better 



244 LIFE OF SPENCER. part iv. 

understood and more correctly appreciated, when 
drawn out in the scenes of actual life, than when 
abstractedly delivered. And, moreover, the pecu- 
liar sentiments which the delineation of certain cha- 
racters is especially calculated to illustrate, are 
better remembered, when associated with names, 
with places, and with deeds ; whilst they make a far 
deeper impression upon the heart, from the circum- 
stance that their nature and tendency are at once 
demonstrated, by the actual consequences to which, 
in these individual cases, they have led. In the 
pages of the biographer, the man lives again for us. 
" Being dead he yet speaketh." We are put ill 
possession, in an hour or two, of knowledge, which it 
cost him years of anxious labour to acquire. We 
obtain confidence — we awake to an honourable 
ambition — we feel the animating influence of hope, 
whilst we mark the excellencies of his character, 
and the successful labours of his life. Self-exami- 
nation is induced, by a contemplation of his failings 
— and caution, by the disclosure of his errors. Hu- 
mility is promoted, by observing with how much 
imperfection the noblest and the loveliest qualities in 
man are unhappily combined — and the provision 
which the Gospel makes for our final acceptance 
with God, derives importance and value from the 
assurance, which every faithful piece of biography 
must tend to establish, — that the purest character — 
the fairest life, must sink before the high standard 
^and demands of Jehovah's perfect law. 

In calling- the attention of my readers to views of 
Mr. Spencer's character, I am aware that the ob- 
jection may be started — that in one so young, a 
character could hardly be formed at all. The ob- 
jection is founded in reason. But although his 
character had not attained its maturity — or assumed 
those fixed and -established habits, with which years 
and experience would have invested it — still it had 



chap. i. LIFE OP SPENCER. 245 

arrived at such a stage of its progress, as already 
to present strong lines, and obvious features. Some 
so deeply marked as to be recognized by all who 
knew him — and others, upon the infancy of which, 
the eyes of his most intimate associates dwelt, with 
unspeakable delight. And, young as it was, the 
character of Spencer at the age of twenty, was such 
as even an aged Christian might not blush to own. 
I have often gazed, with pleasure, on the animating 
picture which my fancy drew, when it has added 
years of experience and of culture, to what was the 
character of Spencer at his death, and imagined to 
itself what, after the lapse of time, that character 
might possibly have been ; and when recalled from 
the delightful reverie, I have mourned that the 
lovely object existed only in my fancy. But we do 
wrong to mourn. His removal from our world was 
the dictate alike of infinite wisdom and infinite love. 
And the time appointed for his departure was the 
best. His character had attained that degree of 
maturity, for which God had destined it on earth, 
— he had performed the service which he was called 
to accomplish in the church. His sun rose with 
almost unexampled rapidity to its meridian — hi§ 
work was completed with prodigious speed — yet, 
having reached his appointed elevation, and per- 
formed his allotted labour — that was the suitable 
period for his removal. He had witnessed as much 
impression and effect, in his short ministry, as many 
an aged pastor would rejoice to observe, after years 
of incessant toil. Can his death be considered, 
then, as premature ? If one labourer accomplishes 
his share of the day's exertion an hour or two earlier 
than his companions, may he not be permitted to 
retire to his rest before them? — Spencer has finished 
his course — he rests from his labours — and his works 
do follow him. 



246 UFE OF SFENCKR. part iv. 

As a Man, 
He was generous— frank — independent — 

UNAFFECTED — UNSUSPECTING — and SINCERE. 

— Generous: his heart, his hand, and his purse, 
were ever at the service of the needy, and cheer- 
fully devoted to the cause of Christ. An instance 
of his generosity has been recorded in the preceding, 
narrative — that of his usually adding to the collec- 
tion, when he preached for the benefit of a poor 
church that had an aged minister. One of the last acts 
of his life was an act of benevolence ; he had no money 
about him at the time of his death, for he had emp- 
tied his pockets to a poor person, previous to his leav- 
ing the house on the morning of that awful day. 
Had he lived to be the possessor of a house, and 
the head of a family, from him the apostolic injunc- 
tion, * given to hospitality ,' would have met with a 
spontaneous acquiescence. Unhappily, this quali- 
fication of a Christian bishop, some of our worthy 
pastors have it not in their power to display ! Frank: 
he was open and ingenuous ; his sentiments were 
ever undisguised ; his language spoke correctly 
what he thought and felt; and his countenance was 
an index to Ins mind. Truly was it said of him, that 
he carried his heart in a crystal vase, so that all 
could see it. His opinions he never attempted to 
conceal. His attachments and his dislikes were, 
with equal freedom and sincerity, declared. The 
prudent will say, that this displayed but little know- 
ledge of mankind; true: he was ignorant, and 
therefore unsuspecting, and often unguarded. He 
did not calculate upon treachery, under the garb of 
friendship — or censorious observation, in the social 
circle. Alas ! that experience should only tend to 
make a man suspicious, and intercourse with society 
to render him sceptical in his opinions of his fellow 
men ! Independent ; perhaps, too much so, for his 
station as a minister of the Gospel, and especially 



chap. i. LIFE OP SPENCER. 247 

as the pastor of a church. He had his partialities 
and predilections — every man must have them — 
he cannot be brought, by any discipline, to love that 
which is totally uncongenial to his taste and habits, 
however he may be inclined to cherish and testify 
deference and respect. But these predilections, 
Spencer was every ready to declare ; and such was 
his independent spirit, that no consideration of in- 
terest could induce him to utter a compliment or 
pay an attention which was foreign from his pur- 
pose, or repugnant to his feelings. To all, he 
cheerfully paid the regard which the obligations of 
his station claimed ; but only with such as his heart 
and feelings approved, did he share the social inter- 
course, or the endearments of friendship. And, 
surely, a man in public life, whilst he pays to all 
around him such attentions as the functions of his 
office involve, has a right to select the individuals 
with whom he will share the social hour, or to whom 
he may commit the more sacred and retired feelings 
of his heart. Yet, even here, prudence would sug- 
gest certain cautions, particularly adapted to the 
very delicate circumstances in which the pastor of a 
church is placed. Unaffected ; every thing like 
affectation and display he abhorred — every thing 
feminine and soft in manners, he excessively dis- 
liked. His own were the reverse ; they were cha- 
racterized by impetuosity and boldness — a decision 
and a promptitude marked every thing he did. 
There was often a carelessness about his dress, 
arising from that indifference to shew and decora- 
tion^ which, in every thing, he displayed. So ne- 
glectful was he of his appearance, that he did not 
wear a watch, till urged repeatedly by the want of 
it, he at length purchased one. He observed to a 
friend a circumstance connected with the purchase 
of this watch, not perhaps unworthy of insertion. 
He aske^ the man of whom he bought the watch, if 



248 LIFE OF SPENCER. 'art iv. 

what he demanded was his lowest price ? M Yes, 
sir," said the man; " I heard you preach upon see- 
ing Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom 
of God, and I will not overcharge you? He loved 
to preach in a gown ; it tended^ he said, to conceal 
his youth, and give weight to his sermon, — other- 
wise he was indifferent about it. How far this may 
be considered as a sufficient reason for wearing a 
gown, I cannot determine ; certainly, there are 
matters of higher moment than this ; and it is surely 
cause of regret, that great and good men should 
ever grow warm, and say or do strong things, upon 
a subject, confessedly so inferior in importance. 
Unsuspecting — he formed an estimate of every indi- 
vidual's bosom by the ingenuousness of his own ; no 
wonder then, if sometimes he should have erred, and 
the error proved a source of poignant anguish and 
unavailing regret. He who has never seen a storm, 
may, all unconscious of his danger, trust the syren 
sea; but be who has endured the tempest will mark 
well the signs of the sky, ere he tempt the treacher- 
ous element that has once deceived. Sincere; 

to have his hand, was to possess his heart; and 
where he could not give the latter, he never presented 
the former. Whatever he said, he uttered from 
conviction ; and on every assurance, the firmest 
reliance might be placed. 

As a Friend, 
He was warm — disinterested — and affec- 
tionate. The fervour of his friendship is suffi- 
ciently displayed in the correspondence preserved 
in the preceding pages. His whole soul seems in- 
fused into his paper; and, if such were his letters, 
happy must they esteem themsekes who were fa- 
voured with his private walks and most retired 
intercourse. " His friendship I can truly say," 
observes his most iutimate companion, " has given 



chap, i LIFE OF SPENCER. 243 

me one of the most lively views that I ever enjoyed 
of union and communion with the spirits of just 
men made perfect. — I shall not easily forget the im- 
pression of awe upon my mind while hearing him 
preach at White's How, from these words : * Be- 
cause there is wrath, beware lest he take thee away 
at a stroke, then a great ransom cannot deliver thee.' 
I thought, I surely can never more use the freedom 
of friendship with him. But at his descent from the 
pulpit, his sparkling eye, friendly squeeze, and affec- 
tionate pressure of my arm to his side as we return- 
ed, convinced me that he was still the humble, 
interesting youth with whom I had taken sweet 
counsel, and walked to that house of God.' " Nor 
was he guided in the formation of his friendships by 
a principle of interest. This indeed governs the 
world in their associations : — 

" And what is friendship but a name, 

A charm that lulls to sleep ; 
A shade that follows wealth or fame, 

But leaves the wretch to weep." 

But be sought not high connexions — exalted friend- 
ships — or splendid alliances — he shrunk from gran- 
deur, pomp, and parade — he felt uneasy when sur- 
rounded by any thing like splendour — he preferred 
the calm mediocrity of life, as furnishing', for the 
most part, excellence in character, and comfort in 

intercourse ! Of his affection, it were in vain to 

speak^ — no language can describe all the tenderness 
of his affectionate heart — affection the purest and 
the most refined. The following is the testimony 
of one who deeply participated in it : — 

" And surely I may experimentally say, that a 
more affectionate spirit than that of Spencer never 
animated a fallen son of Adam. When we first 
met, he unbosomed himself freely, claimed my friend- 
ship, with an affection that overpowered me, and 
entreated the fidelity of friendship, charging me to 
m 2 



250 LIFE OF SPENCER. ™RT iv. 

watch him narrowly, and point out every imperfect 
tion. If ever the delightful scene recorded 1. Sam, 
chap, xviii. verse 1, was reiterated, (and doubtless- 
it often has been) it was when Spencer had made an 
end of speaking. But proofs of the affection of 
Spencer's heart are totally unnecessary. I shall 
mention one only. Soon after we became acquaint- 
ed, he used to call generally on a Saturday evening, 
— ' Well, where shall you be to-morrow? with Mr. 
Foster, I suppose.' ' Why, I suppose so too, un- 
less you draw me away.' '■ I am sure I should be 
sorry to draw you away, if you do not see it right : 
I am sure you must be a loser by hearing me instead 
of Mr. Foster ; yet if you could see it right I should 
be very glad.' When he preached in the country, 
he used, he said, to look round for a retired corner 
for me, such as I should like, if there. At Hoxton, 
he pointed out a seat for me, and when he rose from 
prayer, used to see if I tilled it." 

As a Student, 
$Ie was diligent — conscientious — and SUC- 
CESSFUL. Diligent ; to a habit of study he had 

been inured almost from his infancy — the elements 
of knowledge he obtained under peculiar difficulties 
— and had he not been inspired by an ardent love 
of that sacred work, for the honourable discharge 
of which, he deemed the acquisition of human learn- 
ing necessary, his name would probably never have 
been known beyond the circles of his native town. 
But he longed for the acquisition of knowledge, not 
from a principle of self-gratification, or the love of 
fame, but as an auxiliary to his great design. Im- 
pelled by such a powerful principle, he sought for 
it with unceasing avidity— and laboured in its pur- 
suit with unconquerable ardour. But it was his lot 
to meet with a continued chain of obstacles to the 
free and ample gratification of his taste for learning* 



chap. i. LIFE OP SPENCER. 251 

In his childhood, the circumstances of his family 
were inauspicious, and he was compelled, at a 
period when the powers of his mind were unfold- 
ing, to devote those hours to manual labour, which 
he would have gladly consecrated to books. The 
year he spent at Harwich was the only year of 
uninterrupted study he enjoyed; for very soon after 
his entrance into Hoxton academy he began to 
preach — and then, his popularity formed a most 
serious and insurmountable barrier — whilst, after 
his settlement in the ministry, the important duties 
of his new and extensive sphere of action forbad the 
indulgence of any pursuits in private, but such as 
bore immediately upon his public work. 

These circumstances, however, taught him the 
value of retirement, and instructed him in the happy 
art of husbanding his time. This art he cultivated 
with conscientious care — and whoever contemplates 
the numerous papers he has left behind, and com- 
pares them with the public engagements he per- 
formed, must be sensibly impressed with a conviction 
of his diligence. He never entered the pulpit with- 
out previous preparation. Most of his sermons 
were written throughout, except the heads of ap- 
plication, in which he usually trusted to the ardour 
of his mind, enkindled by the subject which he had 
discussed, and guided by a holy influence. Not 
that he slavishly committed his compositions to his 
memory, and delivered them by rote. For, although 
his discourses were thus pre-composed, and numbers 
of them remain, yet not one conveys a correct idea 
of what his preaching actually was. The reason is, 
that in the pulpit he followed, not so much the im- 
pression of his written language on the memory, as 
the holy and ardent bias of his soul, flowing in the 
channel which he had previously prepared. The 
sermon in the study was completely formed — cor-> 
rectly arranged — and well connected — but to the 



252 LIFE OF SPENCER. fart iv. 

lifeless form, delineated on bis paper, and impressed 
upon his memory, in the pulpit he imparted a living' 
soul; a principle of ardent piety, which operated 
as a charm, the power of which few were able to 
resist. 

Indeed so uniform was his habit of preparation 
for the pulpit, that when called upon suddenly to 
address some young persons, he said to a friend, 
** I wish you would address the children for me this 
afternoon ; I have not prepared any thing — T have 
not considered a subject for them, and I would not 
offer, even to a child, that which cost me nothing." 

But although this was his usual custom, yet, when 
extraordinary circumstances conspired to render a 
departure from it necessary, he could, with the 
greatest propriety and ease, delight and interest an 
audience from the rich treasures of his exalted mind. 
One instance of his powers, in extemporary and 
unpremeditated address, is related of him in Liver- 
pool. Some important affair of a public nature 
engaged the general attention of the religious world, 
on a Sabbath evening, when as usual he had to 
preach ; and, anticipating a thin attendance, he had 
prepared a sermon adapted to the supposed state of 
his auditory — but, when he reached the chapel, and 
saw it filled with anxious crowds, waiting to receive 
from his lips the words of life — his ardent mind 
seemed instantly inspired — he immediately fixed 
upon a passage more adapted to the scene, and with 
his pencil sketched the outline of a discourse, which, 
perhaps, in the whole series of his ministry, he 
never excelled. 

But Spencer's diligence did not expend itself on 
commentators and elaborate pulpit compositions — 
he endeavoured to study providence — to improve 
events — and, so far as he had opportunity, to read 
?nankind. His sentiments on this subject may be in 



mm*x LIFE OF SPENCER. 253 

the recollection of the reader . # I believe he uni- 
formly acted in accordance with them ; and espe- 
cially, he had an opportunity of doing this when he 
became the pastor of a church. The propriety — 
the importance — the utility of this kind, of study, to 
a minister, is too obvious to need discussion. To 
its aid may be attributed, in a great measure, that 
adaptation to the ever varying scenes of the Christian 
life, which the sermons of Spencer usually possessed. 
He studied the characters of the people of God — 
he marked with care the variations of their expe- 
rience — the alternation of their feelings — and the 
vicissitudes of their enjoyment. Indeed, his know- 
ledge in this respect was most amazing-, especially 
in one so young. He seemed to know, and sweetly 
to divulge, what every Christian felt and mourned 
— and he had a balm of consolation for every sorrow 

he awakened — every wound he probed. As a 

student he was 

Conscientious. He was so, in maintaining a habit 
of study, after the restraints of the college were 
withdrawn. Too many imagine, that what is im- 
properly called, finishing their studies — that is, 
concluding their academic course, is in fact the 
legitimate close of all mental labour. Upon the 
stores then acquired, they are to feed, through the 
long years of an extended ministry, the church of 
God with wisdom and knowledge. Alas ! for the 
people over whom such a pastor presides. The 
stores of that mind must be but scanty at the best, 
and soon expended; what then but mental and 
spiritual famine must ensue. Ill does it bode for a 
congregation, when their minister is a lover of plea- 
sure — a lover of society — a lover of mirth — more 
than a lover of study. People should remember 
this, and should act accordingly. They love to have 

• See page 151. 



254 LIFE OF SPENCER. p art ,v - 

things brought from .the sacred treasury before them, 
new as well as old — but the new cannot be obtained 
without research, nor the old presented in an attrac- 
tive form, without thought. To all this, time, and 
that no scanty portion, must be devoted. And the 
hours of study must be taken either from the day or 
from the night — if from the night, it impairs the 
health — if from the day, it must abridge them of 
their minister's society. A congregation, then, 
cannot with justice expect to see their pastor 
always in their social circles, and yet demand from 
him on the Sabbath, what much and intense appli- 
cation only can enable him to produce. A minister 
worthy of his people's affection cannot be too much 
esteemed, nor his society too highly valued — but 
even this authorised attachment may be carried to 
an injurious length — a people may desire too much 
— God may gratify their wish — he may send them a 
busy body in the form and with the pretensions of a 
minister — and it may be said of them, c he gave 
them their request* but sent leanness into their soul.' 
For an unoccupied study, must cause, eventually; 
an empty mind. 

Mr. Spencer was conscientious in the direction 
which he gave to his studies. Aware that he had 
but little time for preparatory labour, and a mighty 
work before him, we have already seen, that at 
Hoxton, whilst he performed with cheerfulness and 
credit the duties of his class, in the various depart- 
ments of literature and science, yet he consecrated 
the first and most constant exercises of his mind to 
such studies as were immediately connected with 
preaching and the pastoral office.* And when ac- 
tually embarked in his most arduous profession, the 
little time he could procure for study he found too 
precious for the pursuit of any object whose claims, 

* See page 88. 



CHAPI LIFE OF SPENCER. 255 

in connexion with the ministry, might hold but a 
secondary rank. Hence he pursued not so much 
the study of general literature, as that of Th eo- 
logy. Aware that the sources of this sacred 
science, are the Holy Scriptures, and that to un- 
derstand them correctly, requires an accurate know- 
ledge of their original languages, he cultivated with 
great care, the study of the Hebrew and the Greek. 
To the former of these tongues he was peculiarly 
attached — his early labours in it have been already 
stated,* and I believe that his proficiency bore a just 
proportion to his exertions. On Theology he read 
very extensively, and for the most part the produc- 
tions of the Puritan divines. His library was small 
— it was but in its infancy; but it was well chosen. 
His study, which remained precisely in the state in 
which he left it on the morning of his death, was an 
object of considerable curiosity to the inhabitants 
and visitors of Liverpool. Many judicious and ve- 
nerable ministers came to see it, and all expressed 
their admiration of the taste he had displayed in the 
selection of his books. There was scarcely a volume 
that did not bear most obviously on the work of the 
ministry. The cast of a man's mind may be gathered 
from an inspection of his library, if the volumes 
composing it have been of his own selection. Who- 
ever should form an estimate of Spencer's character 
from his books, must pronounce him a sound and 
well-informed divine. 

As a student he was successful. If a man may 
be deemed successful who accomplishes what he 
proposes to himself, he certainly was so. He never 
desired to be a profound mathematician — an acute 
philosopher — or an accomplished classic — but a 
useful preacher — a good divine.f As a preacher, 

• See page 23, 
1 1 think that it must have been apparent from the preceding narr&- 



256 LIFE OF SPENCER. pa«t ir. 

few could compare with him — as a divine, he sur- 
passed most of his contemporaries, of the same age 
and standing-. But his attainments in classical lite- 
rature were far from being scanty; that he had read 
the best Greek and Roman authors, with consider- 
able advantage, was obvious from the purity and 
elegance of his style. And in the perusal of those 
English writers, most justly celebrated for the cor- 
rectness of their reasoning, and the chasteness of 
their composition — he was well trained, whilst un- 
der the tuition of his excellent and revered friend 
at Harwich. Upon most subjects he was well in- 



tive, that Spencer's great object was usefulness. He seemed in his 
pursuits to be perfectly insensible to the influence of every other 
principle, than the love of Christ, and the souls of men. Hence if he 
attained not to the same eminence in literature with some of his own 
age and standing, it is not to be attributed either to the want of 
opportunities or of talents. A mind richly endowed, and naturally 
ardent, as was his, might have attained any object to which it had 
consecrated its superior powers. Spencer early selected his. To this 
he devoted all the faculties of his soul. His mind seemed never for a 
moment diverted from it ; and in this, as might be expected, he ex- 
celled. He neither was, nor wished to be accounted a great scholar. 
A gentleman, intimately acquaiuted with Spencer, and formerly a 
student in the same institution, and whose estimate of his character 
and talents is, perhaps, as correct as any that lias been formed, after 
speaking of his critical and classical attainments, which certainly bore 
no proportion to his eminence as a preacher, adds, " Do not suppose 
that I am endeavouring to depreciate him by these remarks. I am 
far from doing it ; aud I think that when you take into view what 
was his main object, and what were the high views which occupied 
every power of his soul, they will be found to increase rather than 
detract from his eminence. It was his glory to be ignorant of other 
and inferior things, if thereby he was becoming more acquainted with 
those which made for his peace, and the peace of thousands who were 
benefited by his early ministry. It will never after this be surmised, 
that his want of proficiency in what is called learning, was owing to 
any want of ability to acquire it. It was to be attributed to the same 
cause which induced him to refuse an exhibition to Glasgow in my 
hearing — a love of doing good, and a conviction of the shortness of 
his day. I am far from being one of those unreasonable persons who, 
when they find a man rising to distinction in one part of his intellec- 
tual character, expect that he should be equally prominent in every 
other, and who look on it as a defect in an Apelles that he was oot 
an expert cobbler." 



™ap.i. LIFE OP SPENCER. 257 

formed, and could converse with ease. He disliked 
controversy, at any rate, in public, however he might 
be disposed to try his strength in private. His chief 
excellence did not lie in the power of conducting a 
deep, an intricate, and a long continued process of 
reasoning to a triumphant close. He rather excel- 
led in clearly unfolding the more prominent features 
of the Gospel — in stating with correctness the great 
truths of Christianity, and supporting them by argu- 
ments purely scriptural — for such discussions he was 
amply furnished. His knowledge of the Bible was 
most extensive, and his quotations from it were, in 
general, remarkably apt and striking. But it was 
in prayer, chiefly, that his familiarity with the Bible 
was observed. Not a sentiment escaped him, for 
which he had not suitable language borrowed from 
the scriptures : and this rendered his prayers pecu- 
liarly rich, simple, and appropriate. 

Of elegant accomplishments he possessed but little. 
1 believe he never touched the pencil. He was fond 
of music, but he used no instrument, and though 
perpetually humming tunes to favourite hymns, he 
was not a good singer. He was much devoted to 
the love of poetry, especially that of Milton, Young, 
Cowper, and Kirke White. He was exceedingly 
attached to Kelly's hymns, and the Countess of 
Huntingdon's, and frequently repeated from them, 
with great fervour and delight. When a boy he 
courted the muse himself, but not with much suc- 
cess. Though not disciplined in the schools of 
fashionable life, his manners were easy, and his 
action graceful ; and these, added to a lovely coun- 
tenance, and an elegant form, rendered him inter- 
esting, both in his public engagements, and in his 
private intercourse. 

As a Christian, 
He was fervent — holy — and humble. — Fer* 



258 LIFE OF SPENCER. part ir. 

vent ; his piety was the ardour of an unquenchable 
flame. With him religion was no matter of mere 
profession and convenience ; nor did it lose its im- 
pression by the frequent recurrence of its subjects 
and its duties — he seemed to live under its abiding 
influence — it was wrought into the constitution of 
his nature — its principles were the springs — its pre- 
cepts the rule — its objects the end of all his actions. 
To this he ever had respect— what opposed it he 
heartily abhorred — what clashed with it he cheer- 
fully resigned — what injured it he conscientiously 
avoided. His love to God was ardent. In this I 
think he much resembled Mr. Pearce, of Birming- 
ham ; and, indeed, often, when contemplating the 
life of Spencer, my thoughts have involuntarily 
recurred to certain traits of character preserved in 
the memoirs of that glorified saint.* His love to 
God shed a glorious lustre on his whole character 
and conduct; every thing that came within the 
sphere of his influence or operation was irradiated 
by it. But chiefly would I confine myself now to 
the influence of this noble principle upon himself. 
It inspired him with a love of purity: as a Christian 
he was eminent for 

Holiness* He contemplated the character of G od, 
and was attracted to it by its purity. " I shall not," 
says his friend, " easily forget the delight which 
sparkled in his eye when conversing upon the divine 
attribute — holiness. ' How sweet,' said he, ' is 
that word holy I — holy Father — holy Saviour- — holy 
Spirit — holy Scriptures. — Surely if there is one 
word dearer to me than another, it is the word 
holy.' " During his residence at Hoxton, the same 
friend observed to a student in the institution, whose 
attention he wished to direct to the character of 
Spencer, " Perhaps you perceive youthful levity in 

* See Memoirs of the Rev. Samuel Pearce, A. M. with extracts 
frpm.some of his most interesting letters, by Andrew Fuller, 



chap. i. L I FE op SPENCER. 250 

himT " No," he replied, " I have remarked him 
particularly, but it was for his spirituality" 

His ardent love of holiness enkindled and che- 
rished in his bosom a corresponding hatred to sin ; 
and so strong- was this principle of love to God, that 
the dread of offending his purity sometimes amounted 
almost to terror, and enveloped his mind in most dis- 
tressing gloom. A paper composed at one of these 
melancholy seasons of depression has been recently 
discovered ; it is entitled, 

" Miserable ills under which I daily 

GROAN." 

Bodily. 

An incessant bilious complaint. 

General languor, nervous feeling, and head-ache. 

The fatigues of my great and repeated exertions in 
preaching. 

Mental. 

The illness of 

The awful weight of responsibility attaching to the 
ministerial work. 

The extreme distance between myself and my old, 
choice, and invaluable friends. 

The impossibility I discover of visiting all the people 
I wish. 

The little time I can appropriate to study. 

The dreadful state of coldness and formality in reli- 
gion, which I know the eternal God sees in me, 
and which, I fear, he hates me for. 

The dread I often feel, lest, after all, I should dwell 
for ever in Hell Fire ! 

Oh! God, who is sufficient for these things? Oh! 
cast me not away from thy presence-— take not 
thy Holy Spirit from me. Oh ! God be merciful 
to me a guilty and a wretched sinner. B.t it sq 
— for Christ's sake, Amen. 

Monday Evening, May 27, 1811. 



260 LIFE OF SPENCER^ tartiv, 

But this was not the usual tone of his mind. Few- 
there are so highly favoured but that, sometimes, 
they are called to walk in darkness. The same 
apostle who declares at one period, I knoro whom I 
have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to 
keep what I have committed unto him until that day; 
at another cries, O wretched man that I am, fyc. ; 
and again, Lest , after having preached unto others, 
I myself should be a cast-awau. This document is 
a commentary on a passage in one of Spencer's 
letters: — " Be assured that 1, as well as yourself, 
have walked in darkness, and complained that there 
was no light. Fluctuations in experience are, I am 
sure, my lot, &c."* He was 

Humble, For abundant evidence of the truth of 
this assertion I need only appeal to his correspon- 
dence, his conversation, and his conduct; they each 
demonstrate that he walked humbly with his God, 
Indeed so prominent a feature in his character was 
humility, that his ministry derived from this prolific 
source a considerable portion of its excellence. 
" For," as a friend observed, " his deep humility 
and self-debasement leading- him wholly to distrust 
himself, his affections ascended continually to the 
Saviour, and brought down that abundant supply of 
spirituality which animated both his sermons and 
his life." 

A minister one day unguardedly said to him, 
" Mr. Spencer, I have been reading of your fame/* 
" My fame, Sir." " Yes; I have been reading in 
one of the public prints, that the Rev. Thomas 
Spencer has been preaching several eloquent and 
impressive sermons at Brighton ; and if you will call 
at my house I will shew you the newspaper." Spen- 
cer declined going-; and his remarks afterwards 
were worthy of himself. 

• Pa^e 138. 



chap. I. LIFE OF SPENCER. 261 

" I am strongly pressed to visit Mr. ■■ ■ ■ ■ ," said 
he; " I cannot; his circumstances are so much 
above mine, that it would be dangerous for me. If 
I get a habit of visiting the rich, I shall neglect the 
poor, and my expectation of usefulness lies among 
them." 

His humility led him early to solicit, and highly 
to value, the fidelity of friendship. As he had a 
deep and intimate acquaintance with his own heart, 
he knew and deplored its corruptions, and turned 
with contempt from those professed and dangerous 
friendships, which only tend to feed the flame he 
was anxious to stifle and subdue. No friend of his 
was ever more faithful to him than Mr. Bickham, 
and few persons were more highly esteemed by him. 
Speaking of that gentleman to his friend Mr. Had- 
don, when he went to Liverpool, he said, " Call 
from time to time on Mr. B. and let me know how 
himself and family are. It will give me great plea- 
sure if you will — I shall consider it as done by 
myself; I owe him particular respect, and I wish 
to shew it." 

There was one instance in which his late attend- 
ance at a place of worship, where he was to preach, 
was unhandsomely attributed to pride. " He takes 
liberties," said they, " because he is popular." Let 
not his memory suffer by such an imputation. It is 
in my power to roll away from the character of our 
departed friend this cloud. It was his attention to 
the duties of the closet, and not his pride, which 
caused his late attendance that day. It has been 
already observed, that he always went from his 
closet to the pulpit. On that day he allowed him- 
self the proper time for retirement, intending to 
take aooach from the city, where he dined, to Wal- 
worth, where he was to preach. But a sudden fall 
of snow engaged every conveyance, and he was 
obliged to walk: the distance was considerable, and 



262 LIFE OF SPENCER. part'w. 

the consequence was, he was too late. When an 
error in the conduct of a minister is committed, 
reasons are easily assigned, and unhappily those the 
most uncharitable come the readiest to hand ; and 
few have sufficient generosity or justice to enquire 
whether that which they have chosen is correct 
or not.* 

The following extract of a letter, dated July 3, 
1810, shall close this part of our review of Spencer's 
character. It was addressed to one who feared that 
his popularity might have an unhappy influence 
upon his mind : 

*' A thousand thanks for the solicitude you ex- 
press for my safety in the midst of the snares and 
dangers which appear to you to surround me ; never 
may I be so left as to lose the dignity of the Chris- 
tian, much more of the Ministerial character, 
by being pleased with so empty a nothing as popu- 
lar applause ; I cannot but recollect that this is a 
distinction not unfrequently bestowed upon the most 
unworthy of men, and it is so little calculated to 
afford any thing like happiness or peace of mind, 
that I hope I shall always be taught to esteem it 
a mere puff of noisy breath ; that so being elevated 
above it, I may seek that reward alone, which a 
sense of the SiMiLE of God will ever bestow. Oh! 



• It may be said that this incident is too trifling to be recorded. 
1 do not think so. Nothing is unimportant which illustrates cha- 
racter ; and it is in these little things, for the most part, that the 
character may be ascertained. Besides, the memory of the dead is 
sacred; and I should not discharge the duties which I have taken 
upon myself in the compilation of this volume, to the satisfaction of 
my own mind, were I to suffer any spot or cloud to remain upon the 
lovely character of Spencer which I am able to remove. If those 
who censured him at that time had known his feelings, their censure 
would have been exchanged for pity. He was very much distressed. 
" But," said he to his friend, who accompanied him; " what I have 
now to do is, to conquer my feelings, or I shall be unhinged and 
uncomfortable in prayer, and then I shall expect no good from the 
sermon." 



chap. I. LIFE OF SPENCER. 363 

my friend, may those pleasures be mine which arise 
from the testimony of my conscience, that I am 
seeking to please that Divine Being-, ' whose frown 
can disappoint the proudest hopes, whose approba- 
tion prosper even mine.' " 

As a Minister. 
We shall contemplate Mr. Spencer as a Preacher 
of the Gospel and the Pastor of a Church. 
Though for the most part these two offices are com- 
bined, yet those who understand their nature, and 
the duties they involve, must be conscious of the 
distinction which this division implies. Many a man 
is an admirable preacher, who is but ill qualified for 
the retired and constant duties of the pastoral office; 
and many a man is exemplary as a pastor, who lias 
little except his piety, which indeed is much, to 
recommend him as a preacher. As Spencer united 
in his own person the two offices, so did he eminently 
possess the qualifications of both. 

As a Preacher his discourses were truly evan- 
gelical: this was the cast of all his sermons. He 
never preached to display himself, — but always to 
exalt the Saviour: this was his constant aim, and to 
accomplish it, he dwelt much upon the beauties of 
his character — the charms of his person — the fulness 
of his atonement — the perfection of his righteous- 
ness* He perpetually dwelt upon his willingness 
and ability to save ; and in order to demonstrate the 
necessity and the value of his great salvation, he 
seldom failed to resort to the fallen, polluted, guilty, 
helpless state of man. He consulted not the incli- 
nations, the passions, or the prejudices of his hearers, 
but preached simply, faithfully, and affectionately, 
the most humiliating, as well as the most animating 
doctrines of the Gospel. Whatever text he struck, 
living waters seemed immediately to flow. What- 
ever was the subject, or the occasion — his holy and 



264 LIFE OF SPENCER, partly. 

ardent mind, ever panting for the salvation of im- 
mortal souls connected with it truths and consider- 
ations, the most solemn and important. His appli- 
cations were forcible and impressive. There he 
wrestled with the people, with a fervour, resembling 
that with which, in prayer, he wrestled with his 
God. He seemed to exhaust every argument which 
might be brought to bear upon bis great object, 
and to these he often added appeals and entreaties, 
the most tender and affecting. Then he seemed to 
lose sight of every consideration, but his own re- 
sponsibility, and his people's good— and as though 
the congregation before him were the only persons 
remaining to be saved, and as though every time of 
preaching was the only opportunity afforded him of 
using the means for their salvation, he besought 
them, as an ambassador for Christ, to be reconciled 
to God. 

The general cast of his preaching may be gathered 
from his texts, which are scattered up and down in 
the preceding pages. By his confession ef faith it 
will be seen, that his sentiments were most decidedly 
what have obtained, in the Christian world, the 
epithet, Cttlvinistic — exactly in conformity with the 
shorter catechism of the assembly of divines. To 
these doctrines he was most warmly attached, and as 
they were the subjects »f his firm belief, so were 
they the constant topics of his discourse, both in 
public and in private. Valuing these doctrines so 
highly, and cherishing so deep a sense of their im- 
portance, we cannot be surprised that he should fee! 
and express regret, when he saw them, in the ser- 
mons of ministers, neglected and cast into the shade. 
Perhaps, in his mode of expression, on such occa- 
sions, he was sometimes incautious.* Admitting 

* Christians, and especially Christian ministers, should be sparing 
in the use of those broad and unqualified assertions respecting their 



«hap. L LIFE OF SPENCER. 2G5 

that it was so, we cannot but admire the principle. 
Where doctrines assume, in the view of the indivi- 
dual, an importance, similar to that which we are 
accustomed to attach to those grand principles which 
formed the basis of Mr. Spencer's ministry, we can- 
not be surprised if he expresses warmly his regret, 
when he beholds them undervalued or abandoned. 

His discourses were judicious — he particularly 
excelled in the adaptation of his subjects, and the 
selection of his texts, to particular circumstances 
and occasions. His sermons were never flippant, 
nor bombastic — 'but always solid and simple — full of 
sound divinity, conveyed in language, which, by its 
copiousness,— its elegance, — its fluency, — astonish- 
ed every auditor. His skill in meeting the several 
cases of his hearers has been already noticed. Every 
age and every rank received their portion from his 
public instructions : the aged were astonished at his 
deep experience ; the young were charmed with his 
affectionate manner; and few, very few, were the 
instances in which the hearers did not depart, each 
affirming, that there was something in the sermon 
that exactly suited thera.f 

brethren in the ministry, which are so easily made, yet so difficult to 
jprove, and so injurious in their influence. It is easy to say, he does 
-not preach the Gospel, of a minister — who loves it, and propagates it 
with as much ardour as the censurer himself . He may not preach the 
Gospel with the same phrases — in precisely the same style of language. 
Perhaps the censurer loves to dwell entirely on the promises of the 
Gospel — on the sovereignty and freedom of divine grace — on salva- 
tioa as the unmerited gift of God by faith and not by works : — all 
this, the man he eensures believes and preaches too ; but then with 
the promises of the Gospel, he blends the threatenings, — and with 
the assurance that salvation is ©f grace and by faith — the importance 
of' obedience, and a holy life as the evidence of saving faith. 

f A passage in a discourse recently published by the Rev. Robert 
Hall, admirably describes this quality of Mr. Spencer's preaching. 
m Without descending to such a minute specification of circumstan- 
ces, as shall make our addresses personal, they ought unquestionably 
to be characteristic; that the conscience of the audience may feel the 
N 



I 

266 LIFE OF SrKNCER. VAtitttx 

As a preacher, Mr. Spencer was remarkable for 
Animation; indeed this was so strongly charac- 
teristic of him, that almost every other feature might 
have been resolved into this. Dr. Styles, than 
whom no man is better able to form and express an 
opinion of his worth, most correctly observes, " If 
I were to sum up Mr. Spencers character in one 
word, comprehending in it only what is excellent 
and ennobling to human nature, I should say it was 
ANIMATION. His intellect was feeling, and his 
feeling- was intellect. His thoughts breathed, and 
his words glowed. He said nothing tamely, he did 
nothing with half a heart." With him, the anima- 
tion of the pulpit was enkindled by the devotion of 
the closet. His communion with God was deep and 
habitual, and this rendered him most feelingly alive 
to the great truths which he delivered — whilst the 
ardent desire which he cherished for the salvation of 
sinners supplied, with constant fuel, the flame of his 
zeal. In. the pulpit, he appeared to be abstracted 
from every consideration, but those immediately 
connected with, his subject, and Ins office. It was 
this holy fervour, perhaps, which constituted the 
^Teat charm of his ministry. The simplest observa- 
tions from his lips were invested, by his manner of 
expressing them, with an importance which demand- 



band of the preacher searching it, and every individual know where 
to class himself. The preacher who aims at doing good will endea- 
vour, above all things, to iasulate his hearers, to place each of them 
apart, and render it impossible for him to escape by losing himself in 
the crowd. At the day of judgment, the attention excited by the sur- 
rounding scene, the strange aspect of nature, the dissolution of the 
elements, and the last trump, will have no other effect than to cause 
the reflections of the sinner to return with a more overwhelming tide 
on bis character, his sentence, his unchanging destiny ; and, amid 
the innumerable millions who surround him, he will mourn apart. 
It Is thus thf Christian minister should endeavour to prepare the tri- 
iiuna! of conscience, and turn the eyes of every one of his heareTS on 
feimself." Discourse delivered to <the Itev. James Robertson at his 
erdination, by Robert Hall, A >»/• 



chap. i. LIFE OF S FENCER. 267 

?d attention. The interest which he felt himself in 
the topics he discussed, he communicated to his 
hearers ; and it was impossible not in some degree 
to feel, when every one saw how intent he was upon 
promoting their eternal welfare. 

" I remember," says a friend, " that one evening 
when we reached Hoxton, in good time for him, but 
too late for me, as he was to preach, the chapel was 
thronged, and I stood in the passage through which 
he passed to the pulpit. His delicate frame was too 
weak to sustain the animation of his mighty spirit. 
His half-closed mouth, fixed eye, flushed cheek, and 
panting breast, pained me to the heart as he passed 
me, and loudly spoke my awful responsibility, pos- 
sessed of such a friend, and such a ministry. He 
afterwards told me that he generally was agitated in 
h\s way to the pulpit, but that when he reached it 
he seemed to feel himself at home. I once asked a 
medical friend, who heard him at Hoxton with me, 

* how he heard?' ' Very uncomfortably.' 'Why?' 

* Because I saw that his preaching is at a physical 
expcnce to himself, beyond what you have any idea 
of. Every part of the service, except his repetition 
of the Lord's prayer, was at an expence which his 
frame is incapable of supporting,'" 

As a preacher, he was 

Solemn. He never degraded the awful dignity of 
liis station, and his office, by buffoonery and^e.tfs, — 
he was popular — but he never courted popularity 
by the practice of any thing that was timeserving t 
crafty, or mean. As an eminent judge once ob- 
served, " he did not despise popularity, but he 
loved— not the popularity which he must follow — 
but the popularity that followed him." Who, but 
must behold with mingled sorrow and contempt, the 
low and disgusting arts, to which some men, who 
style themselves preachers of the Gospel, will con- 
descend, in order to gain the temporary admiration 



268 LIFE OF SPENCER, part jv, 

of the vulgar. There are some indeed, whose minds 
are unhappily so constructed, that they find it im- 
possible to forego their humour, even in the pulpit. 
In such characters, while we deplore the failing, we 
esteem the men, and revere their excellencies. But 
where there is no talent to command respect — no 
superior worth to induce the exercise of forbear- 
ance and love, but mere tricks are resorted to, for 
the sake of obtaining a name, every feeling is ab- 
sorbed in that of mingled pity and disgust. 

Mr. Spencer's preaching had a holy tendency. — - 
He loved the Gospel, and gave to its leading truths 
the prominency in his discourses, but on them, as on 
a firm foundation, he built a superstructure of the 
purest morality. Whilst he directed his hearers to 
a higher source than obedience to the commands of 
the law, for acceptance with God, he never failed 
to enforce its precepts upon the practice of Chris- 
tians, as the rule of their life. Upon the absolute 
necessity of holiness, both of heart and conduct, he 
constantly dwelt, and from every topic which he 
discussed, he deduced those practical lessons, which 
4t naturally supplied. 

But, although as a preacher he obtained almost 
unexampled popularity, he was yet remarkably 

Modest, and unassuming. No man would better 
take a hint, or receive reproof with greater humility 
and even thankfulness ; but no man was more reluc- 
tant to give either, though he might have presumed 
much upon the importance which attended his sta- 
tion, and have dealt out his censure with a liberal 
hand. 

" I>oyou think," observed a friend to him, " the 
expression, * our realm,' which you use in prayer, 
quite right?" " Is it not?" •• It may be so — 
but I never knew any individual except George 
III. and Thomas Spencer, use it, the one in his 
proclamations, the other in his prayers." €on- 



•hap. i. LIFE OF SPENCER. 2G9 

stantly as he used the phrase before — it never was 
known to escape him afterwards. 

" Mr. S." said a gentleman, belonging to a certain 
congregation, to whom he was about to preach, 
" the people come in very late, in general, I wish 
you would reprove them for it this morning." — " Oh, 
no, sir," he replied, " it would ill become a visitor 
and a youth like me, it ought to be a stated or an 
aged minister." 

He shrunk from the public notice to which he 
was exposed, and usually walked the street in great 
haste, and with downcast eyes, anxious to escape 
the gaze of men. 

In the pulpit Mr. Spencer was an interesting 
figure. His countenance had the fine bloom of 
youth. His voice was full toned and musical. His 

action was graceful and appivopj-lcUo. IIv, 0^1110- 

times leaned over the pulpit, as if conversing with 
the people, with the greatest earnestness, and anxious 
to be so plain and explicit as that none should mis- 
understand. At others, he stood with manly dig- 
nity, displaying with spontaneous ease, all the cha- 
racteristics of genuine eloquence. 

That as a preacher he was faultless, no one will 
be disposed to assert ; but his faults were those of 
youth, which time and experience would have cer- 
tainly corrected. He was sometimes too rapid — 
his zeal, like an impetuous torrent, bore him along, 
and would brook no check, — by which his voice was 
often strained, and the usual placidity and dignity 
of his style somewhat interrupted. I conclude this 
sketch of his character as a preacher, by a note in- 
serted at the close of Mr. Hall's discourse, above, 
referred to : 

" The sensation excited by the sudden removal 
of that extraordinary young man, [Mr. Spencer,] 
accompanied with such affecting circumstances, lias, 
not subsided, nor abated^ as we are informed, muck 



270 LIFE OF SPENCER. part iu 

of its force. The event which has drawn so great a 
degree of attention, has been well improved in se- 
veral excellent discourses on the occasion. The 
unequalled admiration he excited while living, and 
the deep and universal concern expressed at his 
death, demonstrate him to have been no ordinary 
character; but one of those rare specimens of hu- 
man nature, which the great Author of it produces 
at distant intervals, and exhibits for a moment, while 
he is hastening to make them up amongst his jewels. 
The high hopes entertained of this admirable youth, 
and the shock approaching to consternation, occa- 
sioned by his death, will probably remind the clas- 
sical reader of the inimitable lines of Virgil on 
Marcelius: 

O t^ate. ^entem Inetrnn ne qucere tuorum. 
» w ra muumi terns nunc latuoin raia, uc^uc ultra 
Esse sinent 

The writer of this deeply regrets his never having 
had an opportunity of witnessing his extraordinary 
powers ; but from all he has heard from the best 
judges, he can entertain no doubt, that his talents in 
the pulpit were unrivalled, and that, had his life been 
spared, he would, in all probability, have carried the 
art of preaching, if it may be so styled, to a greater 
perfection than it ever attained, at least, in this king- 
dom. His eloquence appears to have been of the 
purest stamp, elfective, not ostentatious, consisting 
less in the striking preponderance of any one quality, 
requisite to form a public speaker, than in an ex- 
quisite combination of them all ; whence resulted 
an extraordinary power of impression, which was 
greatly aided by a natural and majestic elocution. 
To these eminent endowments, he added, from the 
unanimous testimony of those who knew him best, a 
humility and modesty, which, while they concealed a 
great part of his excellencies from himself, rendered 
them the more engaging and attractive. When we 



chap i. LIFE OP SPENCER. 271 

reflect on these circumstances, we need the less 
wonder at the passionate concern excited by his 
death. For it may truly be said of him, as of St. 
Stephen, that devout men made great lamentation 
over him. May the impression produced by the 
event never be effaced; and, above all, may it have 
the effect of engaging such as are embarked in the 
Christian ministry, to zcork while it is called to- 
day? 

In directing my readers to a contemplation of Mr. 
Spencers character -as 

A Pastor, I am influenced more, by a desire to 
render this general view of our departed friend com- 
plete and to do ample justice to his memory, than by 
the prospect of any very considerable practical re- 
sult. There are so many examples of pastoral dili- 
gence, furnished by the recorded lives of men vene- 
rable for their age, and valuable for their experience, 
that I cannot anticipate much from the pattern of a 
youth, just entered on his labours. But such as he 
was I am bound to represent him. 

In his visits to the sick he was constant and tender. 

His enlargement in prayer, at the bedside of the 
diseased and dying, was truly astonishing. The 
depth of his experience and ability in speaking to 
the cases of the afflicted, appeared mysterious. But 
it was soon explained by a holy providence. — For 
whilst his friends saw him young and healthy, just 
entering into the world, He who seeth not as man 
seeth, beheld in him the Christian of many years 
standing, just taking wing for glory. This consi- 
deration may tend to check invidious comparisons, 
— for it is certainly unjust to compare one, in whom 
God has cut short his work, in righteousness, with 
those who, though older in years, are younger in 
grace, and have perhaps a long and honourable 
course before them. 



272 LIFE ©F SPENCER. ™" **> 

His intercourse zcith his people was cheerful, spi- 
ritual, and instructive. 

He was no gossip. It was wished, by some, that* 
fee had been more frequent in his visits. But it is 
difficult so to equalize the attention, in a large body 
«f people, as to satisfy the demands of all, and by 
apparent neglect give offence to none. Where he 
did visit, he always left a happy impression of his- 
piety, his wisdom, and his amiable disposition. He 
abhorred the idle tales of the day, — he was no friend 
to scandal. He endeavoured always to direct the 
conversation into a useful and pleasing channel. 
He was cheerful, without levity, and serious with- 
out affectation. There w r as nothing formal or stu- 
died in his manners. In him, every thing was 
natural, and through all the departments of his cha- 
racter, there was a harmony of feature — a unity of 
principle, which every one observed and admired. 

In all the duties of the pastoral office, he was well 
informed,, affectionate, and constant. 

He knew what belonged to his office — and never 
failed to practice what he knew. He made full 
proof of his ministry. He was a scribe well in- 
structed in the mysteries of the kingdom. A work- 
man that needed not to be ashamed, rightly dividing 
the word of truth — giving a portion to each, in due 
season — sparing the irregularities or prejudices of 
none — but seeking with ardent affection the good of 
all — he commended himself to every man's conscience 
in the sight of God. Early he girded on the armour 
— and soon became a leader in the armies of the 
Prince of Peace. He has fought a good fight, he 
has finished his course — and now, he enjoys the 
crown. 



CHAP. II. 



Reflections. 



I AM unwilling; further to detain the attention of 
the reader to a volume, which, but for its interesting- 
subject, would have wearied his patience long ago, 
and which has imperceptibly swollen to a bulk, far 
greater than that which the writer, originally, in- 
tended, by any additional reflections. For the pre- 
ceding pages abound with observations of a practi- 
cal nature, as the narrative suggested them — and 
almost every topic of improvement which might 
now be introduced has been fully anticipated and 
forcibly expressed by the interesting publications 
which appeared immediately upon the death of 
Spencer. And yet, were I to dismiss the volume, 
without any effort at a final improvement of the 
subject, I might be charged with neglecting the 
great object of biography — utility ; and the book 
might be considered as deficient in the most impor* 
tant point. 

In Spencer we see, — 

First, That obscurity of birth or station presents, 
no insurmountable barrier to the progress of real 
excellence. 

The histories of past and present times furnish un- 
numbered illustrations of this remark. Many who 
have lived to enlighten and to bless the world — who 
have obtained rank, and fortune, and renown, were 
born in obscurity, and passed their earliest years in 
the oblivion of humble life. Let sucb, then, as feel 
the pressure of present circumstances, yet pant for 
n 2 



274 LIFE OF SPENCER. PABT lv - 

scenes of honourable exertion, and extensive useful- 
ness, ponder the life of Spencer and be encouraged. 
If God designs to employ them for the public good, 
he will, by an unexpected train of events, in his pro- 
vidence call them forth ; if not, let them neither rush 
unbidden from their sphere, nor occupy their station 
in sullen discontent. If a wider field be not allowed 
them, let them cultivate with cheerfulness the little 
spot to which they are confined. The most retired 
hamlet affords abundant opportunities of doing 
good ; and many a man to whom it is denied to en- 
lighten crowded cities and populous towns, may 7 be 
a star of the first magnitude in the village where he 
dwells. 

Secondly, We see in Spencer the commanding in- 
fiuence of genuine and fervent piety. This was the 
secret spring of all his energy — the fuel of his ani- 
mation — the source of his popularity^ That his mind 
was well furnished with solid truths — that his man- 
ner was engaging — that his form was graceful — that 
his countenance was lovely — that his language was 
elegant — that his voice was fine — is admitted ; but 
it was his ardent piety which gave to each of these a 
charm, and awoke in the breasts of his auditors- a 
feeling of reverence and solemnity, which the simple 
exhibition of these beauties could never have pro- 
duced. The graces of genuine eloquence, and the 
stores of a cultivated mind, are precious ; but with- 
out piety, they are as 'sounding brass and a tinkling 
cymbal.' They may delight the ear, but never will 
impress the heart. And it is not, usually, the labours 
of the most polished and enlightened of his ministers, 
that Jehovah deigns especially to bless ; but rather 
the unwearied exertions of those, whom the love of 
Christ and of immortal souls has rendered zealous 
in the sacred cause. 

Thirdlv, We see in the labours of Spencer, an ad- 



chap.ii. LIFE OF SPENCER. 275 

mirable example of diligence, and in the success that 
crowned them, a strong encouragement to exertion. 

So short was the period of his stated ministry, that 
we can only measure it by months: it had not reached 
to years. And yet few, perhaps, whose term of la- 
bour was so short as his, were ever honoured with 
more success ; whilst many who have seen the num- 
ber of his months often repeated in years of anxious 
labour, have not been favoured with so much. If 
all prove faithful unto death, whom he enlisted, 
whilst on earth, beneath the banners of the cross, he 
will head a goodly company, when the hosts of the 
redeemed shall be assembled at the judgment day. 
Who that knew and loved him, but must anticipate 
the joy with which he then shall say, ' here am I, 
Father, and the children whom thou hast given me,' 

Let Uife example of his exertions and success sti- 
mulate, quicken, and encourage ours. We work 
for the same Master, and are engaged in the same 
cause. And, to the student, or the youthful preacher 
who may honour these pages with his regard, I will 
add, your term may be as short — if it be not as sue- 
cessful, let it be as diligent. The diligence is ours, 
— the success is God's : he will not demand at our 
hands what is not ours to secure — he will give his 
rewards of grace to the faithful servant, whether his 
success be proportioned to his exertions or not; 
and we are ' a sweet savour unto him in them that 
are saved, and also in them that perish.' 

Fourthly, From the early and sudden removal of 
Spencer, let churches learn to prize the labours of 
holy and devoted men, while they enjoy them. Alas! 
too many only learn the value of their privileges by 
their removal. They neglected or lightly esteemed, 
whilst living, the minister, upon whose memory they 
heap eulogies and honours when departed ; and I 
believe, that some have even bedewed the ashes of 
their pastors with affected tears, who accelerated 



270 LIFE OP SPENCER. P ^ RT * 

and embittered their passage to the grave, by un- 
kindness and neglect ! Not so the people whom 
the death of Spencer suddenly bereaved. The tears 
with which they embalmed his memory, were suita- 
ble to the respect they bore his person — the love they 
cherished for his friendship — and the sense they en- 
tertained of his transcendant worth.* Othat every 
minister living, were as much beloved! — dying, were 
as unaffectedly deplored ! 

Fifthly, In Spencer zee see the excellence of real 
religion — bow it sweetens labour — sooths in afflic- 
tion — supports in trial — and animates the soul in 
scenes of disappointment, and hours of care* To 
few are allotted severer labours — to few, so young, 
are measured heavier trials than those which he en- 
dured. And yet few, upon the whole, have possessed 
a greater share of happiness. There were intervals 
of sorrow, and clouds would sometimes obscure the 
brightness of his sun ; but for the most part his hope 
was lively, and his prospect fair. He enjoyed re- 
ligion upon earth — he anticipated the consummation 
of its bliss in heaven: and now he has entered into 
the joy of his Lord. His life was piety, and his end 
was peace. 

* By some liberal expositors of God's providence, the death of 
Spencer has been pronounced a judgment on the people, for what they 
fcave termed, "their idolatrous attachment" to him. Alas! the 
idolizing of its ministers is, surely, not the crying sin of the church 
at the present day ! But was there any thing in the conduct of the 
people over whom Spencer presided, so contrary to the mind of God 
as to excite thus strongly his displeasure, in loving a man who was 
beloved wherever he was known — and revering an office which Christ 
himself has invested with so much dignity ? Let such bold infringers 
of the prerogative of Gcd, who presume to assign reasons for his con- 
duct, when he has not deigned to give any, read — * Know them that 
labour amongst you, and are over you in the Lord, and admonish you ; 
and esteem them very highly in love for their work's sake, and be at 
peace among yourselves." Lerthem take the solemn admonition this 
passage, gives ; and perhaps their own ministers will have no occasion 
t« regret that tjiey have done so. 



CH.^p.ii. LIFE OF SPENCER. 277 

Sixthly, In the sudden removal of Spencer Zi'e mark 
the mysterious conduct of JehovaKs providence. 

At first sight the event might stagger the strong- 
est faith, for he was snatched away at a period when 
his life seemed of the utmost moment to the people 
over whom he presided, and the circle in which he 
moved. Scarcely had his talents reached their ma- 
turity ; his character was even then unfolding ; from 
the promise of his youth, his friends dwelt with rap- 
ture on the anticipations of his manhood, and every 
day added some strokes of reality to the picture 
which they drew,— when suddenly, in the bloom of 
his youth — at the commencement of his course, — 
just entered on his labours — he is arrested by the 
arm of death, and conducted to the silent grave. 
But was his death untimely? No, — he had seen a 
good old age in usefulness, though not in years : 
" that life is long that answers life's great end." 
His end was fully answered, and he was gathered 
to the grave in peace. Was his death severe? No 
— to him it was tranquil, and serene ; he crossed the 
river Jordan, singing as he went, and in an unex- 
pected moment, found himself safely landed on the 
shores of immortality. No raging billows awoke 
his fears — no agonies disturbed his countenance — 
death respected his loveliness, and preserved the 
beauty of the form, when the spirit that animated it 
was gone. But whilst for him his death was peace, 
was there ought oi' mercy in it to his friends? Yes 
— if they review and act upon the lessons it con- 
veys, there was. To survivors it declares, that 
excellence and beauty must fade and die — let them 
seek an interest in him, in whom, whosoever liveth 
and believeth, shall not die eternally. To the church 
it will endear the assurance of His care, who is in- 
dependent of instruments, and the conqueror of 
death. To the young it is a solemn admonition of 
the uncertainty of hie — the instability of all terres- 



278 LIFE OF SPENCER. p a " Wi 

trial good. To such as attended his ministry — what 
a powerful application is it of the many sermons 
they have heard him preach, with such delight — but 
to so little profit ! How must the event of the suc- 
ceeding morning" rivet the impression of those solemn 
words which, on the last Sabbath evening of his life, 
he addressed to them : " I shall soon meet you at 
the bar of God ; I shall be there '(" — O that they 
were wise, that they knew these things — that they 
would consider their latter end! 



END OF THE MEMOIRS. 



APPENDIX. 



APPENDIX. 

No. 1. 



REGENERA TION, 

A SERMON: 
% the Rev. THOMAS SPENCER, 



OUR subject this day is REGENERATION, and 
the passage which I have selected from which to 
discuss this important doctrine is, James i. 18, 

" Of his own will begat he us with thb 
word of truth, that we should be a kind 
of first fruits of his creatures." 

" The works of the Lord," says the Psalmist, "are 
great, sought out of all them that have pleasure 
therein." Creation presents us with many subjects 
for our contemplation — for our astonishment — for 
our ardent praise ; — and the hand of divine Provi- 
dence is daily effecting such amazing wonders in the 
world, that when we contemplate its operations, we 
may well be astonished at the wisdom and power of 
.the great Creator. But the power of God, my 
hearers, is not confined in its display to the tilings 



IV. APPENDIX. 

which do appear, for in a silent — in a solemn — in a 
wondrous way — it works upon the immortal mind, 
and forms us heirs of heaven. He that sits upon 
the throne, once said, — and now says, in the dis- 
pensation of the Gospel, " Behold, I make all things 
new." The Spirit of God renovates the heart, re- 
forms the temper, enlightens the understanding, sub- 
dues the will, and transforms the whole man into the 
image of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. " Of 
his own will begat he us." — This, my hearers, is God's 
chief work — his favourite work — that work which, 
of all others, most regards our interest and our hap- 
piness. Our text then sets before us Regenera- 
tion in three points of view : 

First, In its divine source, " His own will." 
Secondly, In its appointed instrument, " The 

Thirdly, The happy result, It makes us " a kind 
of first fruits of his creatures." 

Let us then indulge our meditations upon this all 
important subject, the doctrine of divine Regenera- 
tion.— And marvel not, my hearers, that the Saviour 
says to you #iis day, " Ye must be born again." 
Contemplate a few moments the work of God upon 
the soul of man, translating him from the kingdom of 
darkness into the kingdom of God's dear Son : in- 
spiring the mind with new dispositions, and prepar- 
ing it for a new and happier world. 

The subject of Regeneration then is to be consn 
dered by us, — First, In its divine source, " His own 
will." And here we are to show that it arises en- 
tirely and alone from the sovereign pleasure of the 
Divine will. This is a fact which needs not to be 
proved, because it is so clearly stated in the text, 
" Of his own will begat he us." Here you behold 
the great source of Regeneration, Here it is evi- 
dent that God is regenerating the soul, and that from 
time to time he is taking men--one of a family, and 



APPENDIX. V. 

two of a city, and bringing them to Zion, that his 
Holy Spirit is renewing- their depraved natures, and 
sanctifying- their ungodly dispositions, so putting 
them among- his children: thus forming them for the 
church of God, and for heaven. Now in the work 
of Regeneration you will see that God is the entire 
agent : and also that when he works upon the human 
soul, there are no materials for him to work upon. 
In Regeneration he imparts grace where no grace 
was before ; he diffuses a divine principle, where, 
till then, such principles never were known. And 
here you may perceive its superiority to the work 
of creation, in that, though God made heaven and 
earth out of nothing, yet there was nothing to resist 
his operations — there w r as nothing to prevent — no- 
thing to oppose : but in the work of Regeneration 

-u...^. V *v> Ull lilttt 11U1UU <jpi^l>9^» It 1U lllv uvua. \*A »^»i^.*» 

all that which opposes the Lord — which hates the 
work of the Lord. It loves sin, and is determined 
to follow its own devices and desires. But over all 
this grace triumphs and prevails; God, the former 
of all things, says, " I will work, and who shall let 
it?' The proud heart is now subdued — prejudices 
are removed — the great mountain sinks to a level, 
and almighty grace advances its own glory, and 
displays its own riches. 

Now that Regeneration arises entirely from — 
springs out of his wise determination — and is accom- 
plished by his own grace, is evident from three 
things : The whole chain of salvation. The impos- 
sibility of its being effected bt/ any thing else. And, 
By the positive assertions of scripture concerning it. 

1. It is evident from the whole chain of salvation. 
This chain is frequently presented to your minds in 
the pages of inspiration. Election is the first link of 
it; all others are suspended upon it. " He hath 
blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly 
places in Christ, according, (mark !) according as 



VI. APPENDIX. 

he hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the 
world, that we should be holy and without blame 
before him in love." Hence you remember that the 
apostle gives us the chain of salvation in God's 
words, when he says, " Whom he did foreknow he 
also did predestinate ; whom he did predestinate, 
them he also called ; and whom he called, them he 
also justified; and whom he justified, them he also 
glorified." Thus all subsequent blessings flow from 
being " chosen in him from before the foundation 
of the world." This is the mighty hinge on which 
turns all our happiness — all our peace — all our joy 
in life, in death, and for ever. " God has chosen us 
to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit, and 
belief of the truth," therefore, " of his own will begat 
he us." His own mind -resolved it — his own gra- 
cious purpose determined it — his own hand wrote 
our names in the Lamb's book. The thoughts of 
the great Jehovah turned upon our salvation before 
the foundation of the world. And since this is the 
case, surely you have every reason to say, " Not 
unto us, not unto us, but unto thy name be the 
glory." Why is it that a soul is regenerated — born 
again? — Why? — " Of his own will begat he us." 

2. It. is evident from the impossibility of its being 
effected by any thing else but the will of God: there- 
fore the glory must be given to the divine volition. 
What is -it in its' nature? It is a new creation. A 
creation ! — And wdio can create but God only ? 
What is it? — it is the rendering a man holy who 
before was defiled and impure : and who can bring 
a clean thing out of an unclean, but the eternal God? 
When he says, Let there be light, behold a dark 
world irradiated by the Sun of righteousness! " Of 
his own will begat he us." Could the exertions of 
all your fellow -mortals ever have inspired you with 
one* devotional sentiment? Tell me, my hearers, 
would your minds ever have been borne half way t© 



APPENDIX. Vil. 

God by your own exertions* or by the united exer- 
tions of your fellow-creatures, bad it not been for 
the sovereign pleasure of the divine will ? Unques- 
tionably not. Look at yourselves in the present 
state. — You have gone astray from the womb, 
speaking lies, — your own minds revolted against the 
government of God — against the grace of God — 
against the means of salvation by the Lord Jesus 
Christ i— there was no eye to pity you ; there was no 
arm to help you : and you would have died in your 
sins, had it not been the good pleasure of his will 
to determine that you should be called an heir of 
God, and a joint heir with Christ: and if it is clear, 
that in the course of your life nothing but this will 
of God could have produced it, what shall we more 
say of the great councils of eternity ? what shall we 
say of the great King Eternal, but that he still re- 
mained sufficient and alone. He chose you to sal- 
vation through sanctification of the Spirit and belief 
of the truth. 'Twas in his own mind that your re- 
demption was determined. You cannot discover 
that there was anv thins: of the kind resolved else- 
where— any other redemption — or that any thing 
but the arm of the great Jehovah could have accom- 
plished it :— then, " Of his own will begat he us." 

3. It is evident from the positive assertions of 
scripture concerning it. And here I read that the 
saints are " born not of blood, nor of the will of the 
flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God." The 
scriptures tell me, that the saints are not " born of 
blood," that is, they are not regenerated on account 
of any notions which they may entertain of high pa- 
rentage, or superiority of character, to the rest of 
mankind, which might give them to imagine that 
they merited the divine favour : — -no ; for the Divine 
Being pours contempt upon all this: " He has 
chosen the foolish things of the world to confound 
the wise, and the weak things of the world to con- 



viii. APPENDIX. 

found the mighty, and base things of the world, anct 
things which are despised, hath God chosen ; yea, 
and things that are not, to bring to nought things 
that are, that no flesh should glory in his presence." 
Nor is it " of the will of the flesh," for that in- 
clines wholly to evil — it is carnal, it is direct enmity 
to God, therefore the will of the flesh would never 
be to be saved by Jesus. Nor is it " of the will of 
man," however bright his reason, however enlarged 
his capacities, however superior the ideas which he 
may entertain, he never could elevate himself to the 
dignity of a new creature. Your own minds would 
never, had they taken their own course, turned to* 
ward God, had he suffered you to go on in a natural 
state, for hundreds and thousands of years ; they 
would never have had a single idea of following hard 
^fter God. The whole must be ascribed to redeem- 
ing grace : 'tis of God. If men are regenerated, 
they are born again of the incorruptible seed that 
livefh and abideth for ever: " of his own will begat 
he us." " The wind bloweth where it listeth :" — 
mark the sovereignity of the operations of divine 
grace ! " the wind bloweth where it listeth ; thou 
nearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence 
it cometh, or whither it goeth: so is every one that 
is born of the Spirit." The divine will is the source 
of your Regeneration, for that volition selected the 
persons who should be the objects of Regeneration ; 
it marked the period of their lives when they should 
be called ; it chose the instrument that should be 
employed in their translation from darkness to light; 
and fixed upon the proportion of terror or of joy 
which should be used in their call. — " Of his own 
will begat he us." The Lord did all these things : 
—the scriptures invariably attribute this work to 
him who alone has power to operate upon the human 
mind, and he has determind that all the saints shall 
be conformed to the image of his Son : — that his is 



APPENDIX. ix. 

the kingdom of universal nature, trie fulness of 
almighty power, and the whole glory of our salvation. 
Thus have we endeavoured to trace the work of 
Regeneration to its divine source. I hold it up to 
your view. 

Secondly, In its appointed instrument, "The word 
of truth." For the word of truth is the means by 
which God has wisely ordained that sinners should 
be regenerated — by the word of truth: and O that 
this truth were more generally received, more uni* 
-versally known— that God always regenerates sin- 
ners by the instrumentality of his Gospel ! for if this 
truth were properly received, I am persuaded many 
erroneous notions would be corrected, and much 
false confidence would be at once swept away. Men 
are regenerated, mark ! — " by the word of truth." 
No mention is made of extraordinary visions, of 
singular dreams, of supernatural influences; — all 
these things are delusive, and they have led many 
to perish in their own folly. So you may learn here, 
that men are not regenerated by baptismal water, 
for it is " by the word of truth." — Baptismal water 
never was designed to purify the soul : it does in- 
deed afford a lively representation of the necessity 
for renewing grace, and of the way in which the 
Spirit forms the soul anew: it is a striking emblem 
of the manner in which God the Holy Spirit, takes 
the water of life, and purifies the soul. Baptismal 
water is not the new birth, but sent to be a witness 
of it. Baptismal water is not the new birth, but 
it shows its necessity, and points out the manner of 
its operation. God begets sinners only by the word 
of truth — then they are called heirs of glory and of 
God. This is evident from the declarations of scrip- 
ture. The apostle always speaks of men being 
called by the Gospel. In addressing the Corinthian 
converts he says, '" Though you have ten thou- 
sand instructors in Christ, yet have ye not many 



$i APPENDIX. 

fathers; for in Christ Jesus I have begotten you 
through the Gospel." It is then the record which 
God has given of his Son that he honours to the 
regeneration of immortal souls ; and to effect this 
we remark, that he uses it in different ways. He 
makes use of the perusal of the word, — of an im- 
pression of the word, — and of the preaching of the 
word. 

1. He sometimes uses the perusal of the word, in 
regenerating the soul. When the favoured indivi- 
dual turns over the volume of inspiration, light 
breaks in upon his mind, with kind and quickening 
rays — his eyes are opened — and he sees wondrous 
things out of God's law : his attention is arrested-^ 
he is struck with the force of divine truth — an im- 
pression i3 made upon his memory which nothing 
shall ever obliterate — the good seed of the kingdom 
is cast into the soul — it takes deep root — it brings 
forth fruit, in some thirty, in some sixty, in others a 
hundred fold. And that man is exhibited a new 
creature in Christ Jesus : he is " begotten by the 
word of truth." 

2. And sometimes we say, God makes use of an 
impression of the zcord for this purpose. Some one 
pointed expression in divine revelation- — some idea 
of its general force, — is impressed upon the mind of 
the man — the arrow of conviction is fixed in the soul 
— the Holy Spirit renders this impression abiding", 
causing it to take deep root ; it follows the man 
wherever he goes, and, lo ! he is convinced that this 
is the finger of God : it describes his character ; he 
feels that it exhibits a suitable Saviour : he is touch* 
ed with compunction ; — and his conscience is sprink- 
led with the blood of atonement. 

3. But more generally God makes use of the 
preaching of the word for this purpose* The Re- 
deemer now has the dew of his youth, and through 
the publication of the Gospel, his converts shall 



JU»PENDIX. XI. 

become numerous as the drops of morning dew; 
they shall multiply year alter year continually. God 
honours the preaching of the Gospel ; hence places 
of worship are opened for the purpose that souis 
may be born to God. He has determined to put 
more honour upon the ministration of righteousness 
than upon the law; more than he did upon creation. 
He honours his faithful servants, making use of them 
to win souls to Christ: while they speak to the ear, 
he speaks to the heart ; while they dispense the word 
of truth, he gives it success ; while they draw the 
bow at a venture, he directs its way to the hearts of 
sinners ; while they call, ■ Come unto Chirst, all ye 
that labour and are heavy laden,' he silently and 
sweetly draws the soul, and supplies it with his 
richest blessings. • O the depths both of the wisdom 
of God, and of the power of God! You see here 
the triumphs of almighty grace, and you ask, * Is 
any thing too hard for the Lord V Now if you ex- 
amine this subject a little, you will perceive much of 
the divine wisdom is discovered here in making use 
of the word for this purpose, because he has wisely 
adapted the means to the end. This you will observe 
if you bear in mind that it reveals our lamentable 
condition, — it sets before us our only hope, — and, it 
is rendered effectual by the blessed Spirit. No won- 
der then that it begets us again to a lively hope* 
that it raises us from a death in sin, to a new life of 
righteousness. The divine word, I say, is suited to 
this, because, 

It reveals our lamentable condition. It tells you 
that you are poor, and miserable, and blind, and 
naked; it sounds an alarm in God's holy mountain ; 
it declaims against every thing that defileth, or is 
defiled; it testifies against sin, and every sinful 
work ; it shews you your true character and mise- 
rable state. The Gospel is a glass, by looking into 
which you may see your own wretched picture; it 
o 



XU. APPENDIX. 

tells you that all your endeavours are worthless and 
insufficient to the end you expect to accomplish. 
The voice of the Gospel cries ; — what does it cry ? 
" All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness of man as 
the flower of the field; the grass withereth, the 
flower fadeth, but the word of our God shall stand 
for ever." It shews us that our own righteousness 
is but as the chaff that flies before the wind : it shews 
you that your own righteousness is but a filthy rag. 
Thus you see that it bears a faithful testimony to 
your true character. Nor does it stop here, for if it 
did, this would not be enough to regenerate the soul. 
But, 

It sets before us our only hope. It tells us of the 
mighty God, the everlasting Father; it reveals the 
Creator of the ends of the earth, who fainteth not, 
neither is weary. It shews us that he can regene- 
rate the soul; it tells us of a blessed Spirit, who 
loves to work upon the depraved mind of man, and 
elevates its thoughts, its affections, and its desires, to 
God.- It tells us, that Christ has an ability, a com- 
mission, an inclination, to take the stony heart out 
of our flesh, and to give us an heart of flesh : it di- 
rects us then to the strong for strength ; to the only 
wise God for intelligence ; to the unerring Creator 
for a principle of spiritual existence. — " Of his own 
will begat he us by the word of truth." That word 
tells us of one that is mighty to save, and gracious 
to relieve ; and you will see that this is adapted to 
every purpose of our regeneration. If you remark 
again that 

It is rendered effectual by the blessed Spirit. For 
of itself it cannot accomplish the end, however well 
adapted. The word of truth, though it be read to 
you, though it be impressed upon the mind, though 
it be read from the pulpit, will, after all, be a dead 
letter, unless it be accompanied by the power of the 
Holy Spirit : hence it is that so many persons re- 



APPENDIX. X1U. 

ceive no -benefit from it. You tell them that it is 
adapted to the end ; but though it be so, it waits for 
the Spirit to move upon the waters ; it waits for the 
time when this blessed Agent in our salvation shall 
bring it home with power to the conscience of the 
sinner, and then, — then there is no doubt of its suc- 
cess. When once that blessed Spirit determines 
to work, no opposition is too strong for him to re- 
move. When once he resolves to magnify his grace 
on the behalf of a feeble worm, that grace shall be 
magnified. O that that Holy Spirit, whose office 
it is to regenerate the soul, would this day take 
of the things of Christ, and shew them unto us ! Ah! 
my hearers, you will not have entered this house of 
prayer to-day in vain ; it shall be a birth place to 
your souls, if hereafter you shall have to say, ' I 
was born there.' O that it may be the case ! May 
we be born again ! may we be regenerated by the 
word of truth, then we shall be a kind of first fruits 
of his creatures. 

Observe, Thirdly, The happy result^ — it makes us 
" a kind of first fruits of his creatures." 

Here there is an allusion to the first fruits in the 
land of Canaan, where, you remember, (at least those 
of you who are in the habit of reading your Bibles 
will remember,) that the first fruits were to be 
brought to the priest to be consecrated to God, and 
that the priest was to wave the sheaf before the Lord 
to be accepted of him. This beautifully illustrates 
the effect of regeneration upon the soul. All those 
who are regenerated are like that sheaf; they are, 
" a kind of first fruits of his creatures." 

And this furnishes us with three ideas : it shews 
us the happy result of Regeneration, — It stamps us 
the property of God — " his creatures." It sherm us 
the real value of Christians — they are the " first 
fruits of his creatures." And, It assures us of an 



XIV. APPENDIX. 

abundant harvest to Christ~-for after all we are but 
" the first fruits of his creatures." 

1. Regeneration, we remark, Stamps us the pro- 
perty of God,— it shews us that we are " his crea- 
tures." You may say, that we were so before: 
true; by creation we were: but Regeneration is a 
nobler work than that. It is true that he " made us, 
and not we ourselves; we are the people of his 
hand, and the sheep of his pasture ; but he forms 
us in a nobler way, and for a higher end, when his 
Spirit breathes upon us, and says unto us, " Live." 
Then we become the creatures of God by adoption, 
grace, and self-dedication ; for the moment we are 
born again we say, " Lord, I am thy servant- — I am 
thy servant, the son of thine handmaid : thou hast 
loosed my bonds." The moment that we are rege- 
nerated God sets a new mark — a new seal upon us ; 
we do not belong to the world, for we were redeemed 
out of it: we do not belong to Satan, for we are 
snatched out of his hand : we do not belong to our- 
selves, for then, none of us liveth to himself, and not 
one of us shall die to himself, but, living or dying, 
we shall be the Lord's. Lo, then, we are the pro- 
perty of God ! — By regenerating grace we are made 
his creatures; for he claims us: he says, I have 
formed thee, — thou art my servant. 

2. It shezvs us the real value of Christians. They 
are " the first fruits of his creatures." More valu- 
able than creation ; — more valuable than the world 
they inhabit ; — they will endure longer than the world 
on which they dwell. When all these things shall 
be consumed ; when the world shall pass away with 
the lusts thereof; still, — he that doeth the will of God 
abideth for ever. You may see here the real value 
of Christians, since God views them with more 
affection than any other part of mankind. For their 
sakes days of misery are shortened. Is a man re- 
generated? — that man is so interested in the favour 



APPENDIX. 3LY. 

of God that all things work together for his good. 
Are you regenerated, my hearers ? Then you are 
the salt of the earth, and shall confer blessings 
wherever you go ; — you are " the first fruits of his 
creatures." — O Israel, thou art holiness to the Lord ! 
Thou art the first fruits of his increase. Hence the 
great Jehovah, as the sovereign Lord of universal 
nature, looks over the worlds that he has made — - 
inspects the universe — glances at the earth we in- 
habit — beholds the productions of his infinite skill, 
and appears to say, — Where shall I fix my heart ? 
Where place the most of my affection ? Whom, in 
all this wide world, shall I acknowledge as the dar- 
ling of my heart — as the heir of all things? — Who? 
— The regenerate soul ; for " the Lord's portion is 
his people, and Jacob is the lot of his inheritance." 
Again, 

3. It secures a large harvest. What are we when 
regenerated ? Only the " first fruits" of his increase. 
Every redeemed soul is an addition made to the fa- 
mily of God: every redeemed soul is another sub- 
ject won from Satan's empire— another elect vessel 
joined unto the Lord. Now the Redeemer has the 
dew of his youth ; but hereafter whole nations shall 
call him blessed, and all the families of the earth shall 
be blessed in him. Now one and another is called 
from time to time and regenerated by the word of 
truth ; but then a nation shall be born in a day. 
Every newly regenerated soul is a proof of this re- 
generating grace, — shews us that Jehovah reigns, 
and reigns over all : it tells us that he must increase: 
it shows us that though heaven and earth oppose, 
he must reign till he hath put all his enemies under 
his feet. Whenever a new voice is heard saying, I 
am the Lord's — whenever another individual sub- 
scribes himself to the name of the God of Jacob, we 
see a fresh victory won by almighty grace. And 
now, my hearers, though 3atan does oppose the 



xvi. APPENDIX. 

work of Christ — though corruption in the heart op- 
poses it — though prejudice and ignorance oppose it 
— yet, behold I say unto you, " Lift up your eyes, 
and look upon the fields, for they are already white 
unto the harvest." Do you not behold 5ome of the 
first fruits? and they tell you, that the Lord of the 
harvest will soon complete his triumphs, till all na- 
tions call him blessed. O what a wide sphere of 
usefulness does this present in the world ! Who 
knows what trophies of almighty grace may be gained 
within these walls ! Look around elsewhere, and 
tell me whether the arm of the Lord may not be ex- 
alted there also ! Yet all you see is only the " first 
fruits." But you may depend upon it, that all the 
Saviour's brethren's sheaves must bow before his, as 
the sheaves of Joseph's brethren before the sheaf of 
Joseph. So certain it is that the Saviour will go 
on conquering and to conquer. Some of you know 
it, my hearers, because you are standing proofs of it. 
We Want no other proof of the power of divine grace 
than this, that God is going on from time to time 
renewing the souls of the unregenerate. O do not 
then tremble for the ark of God : suffer not your 
minds to be overwhelmed with gloomy apprehen- 
sions, although things may not be exactly as you 
could wish. Still remember that your Father ma- 
nages his own house. Tremble not, my hearers, on 
account of the death of his servants, or at the remo- 
val of his servants ; — he still secures a large increase 
of converts. 

We have gone through our discussion of this 
subject: 'tis time we proceed to apply it. 

And, We may learn from this subject the necessity 
of progress in religion. Some of my hearers have 
attained a good hope, through grace, that they are 
born again. But O, let not the matter rest there ! 
if you regard your own increasing happiness, let it 
not be enough to kno\v that you have escaped the- 



APPENDIX. XVII. 

pollution of the world through lust; we wish you to 
go on to perfection : not to count that you have al- 
ready attained, but to press forward to the mark of 
the prize of your high calling. Are you born again! 
—This is well. But shall you always be babes in 
Christ Ye are born again ; but why not press on 
to the perfect stature of a man in Christ Jesus, when 
He increased in wisdom and in favour both with God 
and man? Why not then " grow in grace, and in 
the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus 
Christ?" Again, 

You may learn from this subject the necessity of 
Christian confidence. God has given them a spark 
of life ; and what for 1 To extinguish it I No, but 
to fan it into a flame that shall burn for ever with 
unextinguishable blaze. God has given them a prin- 
ciple of spiritual life : this is a proof that he will give 
them eternal life. If he has " begotten you again to 
a lively hope," shall that hope be frustrated I God 
forbid ! Let my brethren in Christ be confident in 
Christ, and confident of this very thing, " that he 
which hath begun a good work in us, will perform it 
to the day of Jesus Christ. " Of his own will begat 
he us," — of his own will he shall encourage us to 
persevere, — call us to heaven, — and his own voice 
shall hereafter raise our dead bodies from the tombs, 
and Christ shall be magnified by us whether by life 
or death. 

Finally* You may learn hence the importance of a 
personal interest in the subject. O sinners ! ye must 
be born again ! — ye must — ye must be born again, 
or the blessings of the kingdom of grace will never 
be enjoyed by you ! Ye must, or the favour of the 
King of heaven will never be experienced by you ! 
Ye must, or the enjoyments of a better world will 
never, never be known by you \ Learn from, this 
subject, that unless you are regenerated by the word 
pf truth, where God is you nev,er can com.©,. You 



XYUI. APPENDIX. 

may go on in a course of iniquity, and fancy your- 
selves secure ; but oh J without this passport, this 
certificate for heaven, if I may be allowed the ex- 
pression, in regeneration, you cannot enter there ! B& 
not deceive yourselves. Know ye, that " that which 
is born of the flesh is flesh." O that ye knew how my 
soul longs that you may experience that " that which 
is born of the Spirit is spirit." But ah! there must 
be a difference in your character. God requires 
holiness, and if you are yet strangers to if, all this is 
an inexplicable mystery to you. — Holiness must be 
practised — holiness must be exemplified by you, or 
how will you meet a holy God ? 'Twas never in- 
tended, believe me, my fellow-sinners, that the man 
who continues in iniquity should enter glory; that 
he who goes on to the grave in the same condition 
in which he was born, should enter heaven. God 
determined that there should be a particular line of 
distinction formed; — a point in the man's life which 
should mark the grand difference, and determine 
him for heaven. O, then ! has he done this for you? 
Are you born again ? I ask you not what attain- 
ments you have made in this world ; what know- 
ledge, wealth, or honour, — what portion of respec- 
tability you have attained; but I ask you this, Are 
you born again? You must know, if you believe 
the Bible, that by nature you are dead in sin: — - 
have you any proof that you are now alive? Are 
you living to God, dedicating your life and your all 
to him; or are you without God, and without hope 
in the world? And now I would exhort you, if you 
feel a willingness to be a partaker of the new birth, 
if you have any anxious desire that Satan may not 
retain you in his possession, I would exhort you to 
go and pray that the thoughts of your hearts may be 
forgiven you. Simon Magus was called upon by 
an apostle to pray, therefore surely 1 may call upon 
y©u to do the same. And Oh ! I am happy in the 



APPENDIX. XIX. 

thought that he will not despise the prayer of the 
destitute : he will attend to the voice of their sup- 
plications. God shall regenerate you, unholy as you 
are. He shall not stay long, saying, How shall I 
put thee among the children ( — but his bowels shall 
yearn over you, — his heart shall feel affection for 
you, — you shall be joined to his saints, and near to 
God. 

Here you see then that all our salvation is of 
grace — that the sovereign pleasure of his will laid 
the foundation, — and the kind hand of his love must 
bring forth the top stone, shouting, " Grace, grace 
to it !" Even so. Amen. 



No. II. 

ADDRESS AT LAYING THE FOUNDATION-STONE 
OF THE NEW CHAPEL, GREAT GEORGE STREET, 
LIVERPOOL. 

By the Rev. THOMAS SPENCER, 



" And this stone which I have set for a pillar 
shall be God's house" — So said the patriarch Jacob 
on a memorable occasion, and so may we say, as- 
sembled as we are to lay the foundation-stone of an 
edifice to God. We have found out a place for the 
Lord, an habitation for the mighty God of Jacob: 
beholding this spot of ground on this interesting 
morning, a thousand delightful sensations pervade 
our souls, and we are ready to anticipate the pre- 
sence of the Great Eternal in this place, for "is not 
this the hill which God hath chosen to dwell in it for 
ever?" Let us please ourselves with believing, that 
2o 



XX. APPENDIX. 

here holy incense shall ascend to God — that from this 
place the voice of prayer and praise shall rise tuneful 
to the court of heaven — that here pious men shall 
enjoy the sublime happiness of devotion — that here 
the ungodly and the sinner shall be induced to beg-in 
their lives anew. How often may many have to say, 
on the very ground we tread, " How dreadful is this 
place ! this is none other than the house of God, and 
the gate of heaven." The Master of worshipping 
assemblies, Jehovah, by whose call congregations 
assemble, and -by whose blessing their souls are be- 
nefited, may here afford his watchful care, his ani- 
mating smiles : we have every reason to believe he 
will do it, entreated by the earnest and fervent sup- 
plications of the men he loves ; himself inclined to 
bless the gates of Zion, his eyes and his heart shall 
be here perpetually ; with pleasure will he behold the 
favoured spot ; and in the liberality of his heart af- 
ford to his assembled saints an earnest, a foretaste, 
a lively representation of what those happy spirits 
know and feel who are ever with the Lord. 

We flatter ourselves, that the erection of an edi- 
fice like this is the effect of benevolent feeling to 
mankind, and an ardent love to the Great Lord of 
all. We unite in endeavouring to maintain the ho- 
nour of the Saviour's name, and to support the glory 
of his cross. We feel, and deeply too, the neces- 
sity of possessing somewhat more than this earth 
can afford : we regard men as immortals, and we 
know that there are blessings, without the enjoyment 
of which those souls will experience continued dis- 
appointment here, and will languish for ever in ano- 
ther world. These necessary and holy blessings, 
the Eternal has chosen to communicate by the in- 
strumentality of a preached Gospel. We know that 
Jehovah in making up the number of his elect, works 
by means ; therefore it is that we endeavour to bring 
that Gospel, the report of which is indeed a joyful 



APPENDIX. XXI. 

sound, to the ears of mankind, praying that the 
blessed Spirit would send it to their hearts. The 
erection of this place is a direct attack against — 
against whom? say my hearers, alarmed at the idea 
of hostility — against the Church of England ? No ! 
God forbid ; the very reverse of all this. We cheer- 
fully take the present opportunity of informing this 
numerous auditory, that the doctrines which will bo 
proclaimed on this ground will exactly correspond, 
will be just the same, with those contained in the doc- 
trinal articles of the Church of England, which are 
the bulwarks of its faith, and may be read in most 
of the Books of Common Prayer. Is it, then, you 
ask again, an attack against any other congregation 
or body of professing Christians? My soul revolts 
and spurns at the idea ; for in the cause of Imma- 
nuel we wish cordially and constantly to unite with 
all those who believe in the Lord Jesus, both theirs 
and ours. But in one word, this is an attack di- 
rected against the kingdom of Satan and the Prince 
of Darkness. Its object is the translation of our 
fellow creatures from his hateful power and domi- 
nion, and their translation into the family of the 
blessed household of their Redeemer. With the 
sword of the Spirit we wish to combat the old ser^ 
pent the devil. In this large and populous town he 
has maintained his seat, he has reigned and triumph- 
ed: we long to see him fall like lightning from 
heaven ; and hence we preach that glorious Gospel, 
which opposes his works, which rescues from his 
power, which gives us to expect a final triumph 
over him and his followers,. 

Here we expect that the preaching of the cross 
will be heard— that self-righteousness will in no 
shape meet with encouragement—that man will be 
represented as nothing, and Christ as all in all. We 
erect no altar to an unknown God, but are boldly 
confessing, that we wish every day to approach thf 



XXU. APPENDIX. 

Father of Spirits, through the mediation of God our 
Saviour, and all this by the gracious aid of the Holy 
Spirit. And are any of us so hardened, through 
the deceitfulness of sin, as not to wish that here 
many souls may be born to God — may be trained 
up for heaven, — or shall we not, at the last great 
day, rejoice to see a goodly company of men, who 
on this spot shall have met with the Saviour Jesus, 
and commenced an honourable path to heaven. We 
rejoice in the thought, that the cause is God's, and 
must prevail, and with pleasure we celebrate the 
growing empire of our king. His church must flou- 
rish, because it is purchased with his blood, and 
preserved by his grace. The names of the several 
denominations among which it is scattered may be 
lost and forgotten, but its numbers shall increase, 
and its honours spread to the end of time. 

The Episcopalian church may totter to the ground ; 
the Presbyterian church may be known no more ; the 
Independent church may no longer exist as a sepa- 
rate body; but the true church, made up of many of 
all these, and confined to no one of them, shall in- 
crease yet more and more, and ever be acknowledged 
the Zion of the Lord, the city of the Holy One of 
Israel. 

This morning have we cause for gratitude, that 
amidst the spread of infidelity, and a vain philoso- 
phy, the work of God is not forgotten; that still his 
churches rise and flourish; that still souls are born 
to God, and the saints shout aloud for joy. In the 
sanctuaries where we worship, we have the solace of 
our cares, a kind refreshment afforded us in our 
journey to heaven, and new light and joy bestowed. 
May all this be known amongst us — be known by 
posterity when we are cold in death. 

I cannot lose sight of the opportunity which this 
morning affords me, of assuring this large and mixed 
assembly, that real religion is a personal thing ; that 



appendix; xxii?. 

the Gospel we preach must be believed, and its con- 
solations enjoyed, or there remains for us no hope 
of pardon or of peace. My fellow immortals, you 
have all sinned, and come short of the glory of God: 
but we exhibit to you a blessed and perfect Re- 
deemer ! Believe in him, and you shall not be con- 
founded world without end. And when I meet you 
in an assembly far larger and more solemn than this, 
I mean at the judgment day, you shall be accepted 
of him ; yea, believing in him, you shall then enter a 
temple, not made with hands, eternal in the heavens; 
and for ever adore the hand that formed it, the grace 
that conducted us to it, and the Saviour who fills it 
with his glory. Amen.* 

On Wednesday, May 27th, 1812, the Chapel was 
solemnly dedicated to God. On this interesting 
occasion, the Rev. P. S. Charrier, of Bethesda Cha- 
pel, Liverpool, commenced the morning service by 
reading a suitable portion of Scripture, and offering 
up a solemn and appropriate prayer. The Rev. 
William Jay, of Bath, delivered a sermon from Psalm 
exxii. 6, — ' They shall prosper that love thee.' The 
Rev. Mr. Lister, of Lime-street Chapel, concluded 
by prayer. In the evening, the service was opened 
by reading of the Scriptures and prayer, by the Rev. 
Jos. Fletcher, A. M. of Blackburn. The Rev. Dr. 
Collyer, of Peckham, preached from 1 John, iv. 8, 
- — ' God is love. 7 The Rev. Mr. Kershaw, of Edin- 
burgh, concluded by prayer. 



• This is evidently but a rude outline of what was delivered on 
that interesting occasion. The effect produced upon the immense 
auditory which he addressed was remarkably strong, and every effect 
must have an adequate cause. 



No. III. 
FUNERAL ORATION, 

DELIVERED AT THE GRAVE OF THE 

REV. THOMAS SPENCER, 

BY THE REV. JOSEPH FLETCHER, A M. 

" How dreadful is this place T Never, my af- 
flicted friends, were we assembled in circumstances 
of such deeply affecting and overwhelming interest 
as on the present occasion ! Never did an event 
transpire so powerfully adapted to excite all the 
feelings of sympathy and sorrow ! Little did I ima- 
gine, when that voice, now silent io death, addressed 
a weeping and attentive audience at the grave of a 
lately departed minister,* that I should be called so 
soon to perform a similar service for him, whose pa- 
thetic eloquence at that time touched all the springs 
of sensibility within me, and made me feel the luxury 
of grief! Little did I imagine that the recent so- 
lemnities of his ordination were but a prelude to the 
more awful solemnities of this morning, and that I 
should never again behold him in the sanctuary of 
God on earth! M Thy way, O God, is in the sea, 
" and thy path in the great waters, and thy foot- 

" steps are not known !" And is our friendship 

terminated lor ever I No, my fellow sufferers, it is 
only suspended — the separation is only for a time — 
the felicities of holy communion with those we loved 
on earth, shall be renewed in another, and a better 
world. " Blessed be the God and Father of our 

• The late Rev. Ebenezer White, of Chester, who was interred just 
three months before the interment of Spencer* See Memoirs, p, 20& 






APPENDIX. XXV. 

" Lord Jesus Christ, who hath begotten us again to 
" this lively hope, by the resurrection of Jesus Christ 
" from the dead !" " He shall not return to us," 
but I trust, through that grace which has fixed his 
eternal residence in heaven, we, " shall go to him." 
You behold, my friends, in the melancholy event 
which has drawn us around this grave, an AFFECT- 
ING INSTANCE OF THE UNCERTAINTY OF LIFE. 
" What is your life? it is even as a vapour which 
" appeareth for a little while, and then vanisheth 
" away." The voice of this dispensation is like that 
which cried aloud in the desart — " All flesh is grass, 
" and the glory of man as the flower of grass." Who 
would not have wished that this lovely flower might 
have long bloomed in the garden of the Lord ? But 
**• Like a flower he came forth — and is cut down, 
" and v his days passed away as a shadow." If the 
prayers, and tears, and affection of the church of 
God could have detained him a little longer amongst 
us — humanity, benevolence, and religion would have 
rejoiced ; but " our times are in his hands, and his 
" are all our ways." Mutability is inscribed on our 
earthly possessions, that we may " seek the things 
" which are above, where Jesus sitteth at the right 
" hand of God." If the relations and enjoyments of 
time were so fixed and certain that we could ration- 
ally presume on the periods of their continuance, 
and make them the subjects of calculation, we should 
forget our dependance — we should forget him who 
is the arbiter of our destinies — we should " boast of 
" to-morrow :" and in the world around us we should 
see still more awful proofs of rebellion against the 
government of the Almighty. But God is deter- 
mined not only to make us know, but to make us 
feel, that we are " in his hands," and at his disposal ; 
to compel us to acknowledge our dependance ; to 
detach us from the crowd, and noise, and tumult of 
the world ; and to lead us to the silent and impres- 



XXVI. APPENDIX. 

sive contemplation of things unseen and eternal. 
Thus we are reminded of our mortality; we feel that 
all our plans and purposes are entirely dependant on* 
his arrangements ; and that " of him, and through 
" him, and to him, are all things." 

The elements of nature and the operations of pro- 
vidence are under the constant superintendance of 
divine wisdom and power; and those things which 
one day minister to our comfort and enjoyment, may 
be the next day the means of our destruction. 

tr Fate steals along with silent tread — 
'" Found oftenest in what least we dread ; 
" Frowns in the storm with angry brow — 
" And in the sunshine strikes the blow !" 

"You know, my weeping friends, the afflictive cir- 
cumstances tp which I allude. This very day on 
which you are consigning his remains to the dust of 
death with so much " lamentation and deep mourn- 
ing," he had fixed upon as the time of his departure 
from you for a season ; and in the private record of 
his feelings, found among his papers since his de- 
cease, he had described the fond anticipations of his 
heart in the prospect of meeting his relations and 
friends. Yet in the midst of all these glowing and 
ardent expectations, his piety and his dependance on 
the will of his heavenly Father were strikingly dis- 
played—and " I hope, I trust, I wait" were the 
expressions of chastened feelings which he blended 
with all his arrangements. But God had other pur- 
poses to accomplish : " his thoughts are not as the 
" thoughts of man, his ways are not as the ways of 
" man ;" and therefore I call upon you to contem- 
plate in this dispensation A mysterious display 
of divin b sovereignty. " In him we live, and 
" move, arid have our being." On his power we are 
continually dependant, and he has an undoubted 
right to do with us " as seemeth good unto him." 
When we reflect on our relation to God as creatures, 



APPENDIX. XXVH. 

and our character as sinful creatures, so far from re- 
pining at his visitations, we shall adore the justice that 
" strikes our comforts dead." It is true those visita- 
tions are sometimes so unexpected, so calamitous, 
so adapted to derange our plans, and frustrate even 
the designs we had formed with a view to the pro- 
motion of the divine glory, that our minds are con- 
founded, our faith trembles, our fears, and doubts, 
and distrusts, gain the ascendency for a time over 
our confidence and hopes, and we exclaim under 
the influence of wounded feelings—'* Wherefore, O 
" JLord, dost thou contend with us ?" Still, my af- 
flicted friends, let us remember and adore the sove- 
rignty of God. Its proceedings may appear to our 
limited views mysterious and incomprehensible ; our 
feeble vision may be overpowered by its splendour; 
it may be " dark through brightness all along;" but 
it is still the sovereignty of God,— it is never capri- 
cious, never arbitrary, never inconsistent with the 
perfections of his nature, and never opposed to the 
declarations of his word. I know and feel that this 
dispensation is inexplicable. God says to you— » 
*' Sons of men — 1 takeaway this desire of your eyes 
" with a stroke." And what prospects of usefulness 
and of comfort are darkened by that cloud which is 
passing over youl The churches of Christ sympa- 
thize with you. Those pastors who so lately assem- 
bled to be the witnesses of your order, and the par- 
takers of your joy, are now weeping with you. Holy 
angels who minister to the heirs of salvation behold 
your sorrows ; and He who has glorified your na- 
ture in heaven, remembers the tears he shed at the 
grave of Lazarus, and is ■' touched with the feeling 
" of your infirmities." But amidst all this scene of 
affliction, amidst all the mysteriousness of this dis- 
pensation, listen to thaf voice of comfort which the 
Father of mercies speaks to your troubled minds — 
" .Be still, and know that I am God — / will be ex- 



XXVUl. APPENDIX. 

" alted in the earth :" " I will never leave you, J will 
" never forsake you:" " What I do, ye know not 
" now, but ye shall know hereafter." 

The loss you have sustained is of no ordinary kind, 
and you have to indulge in no ordinary recollections 
concerning your departed pastor. Few ever entered 
on a course of ministerial labour in more auspicious 
and encouraging circumstances. In early life his 
heart was the subject of gracious impressions, and 
he was enabled to devote the bloom and blossom of 
his youth to the service of the Redeemer. At that 
period when only trifles and toys engage the atten- 
tion of children in general, he discovered unusual 
penetration and knowledge on subjects connected 
with religion. He seemed to display a premature 
developement of the powers of reasoning and of 
communication ; and often delighted his friends by 
explaining in the parlour, those portions of the sa- 
cred word which had deeply engaged his attention, 
with singular fluency and pathos, even before the 
twelfth year of his age ! At that early period, he 
discovered an unusual aptitude for the exercises of 
the Christian ministry; not resulting from mere boy- 
ish imitation, but apparently marked by the same 
qualities of ardour, sincerity, and impassioned feel- 
ing which distinguished his future course. Like hi3 
divine Master, he was often amongst " the teachers 
" of Israel;" and like him, as he " grew in wisdom 
" and in stature," he grew also in " favour with God 
" and man." When his powers of thought and ex- 
pression were improved and matured by education, 
he entered on a large and extended sphere of labour 
in the church of God. Previous to the formation of 
his short pastoral connexion, his ministry had excite 
ed an unprecedented degree of interest and atten- 
tion; and what surprised the most judicious of his 
hearers, wherever he went was the ripened expe- 
rience he seemed to possess in the things of God F 



APPENDIX. XXIX. 

the chasteness and simplicity of that diction, in 
which he uttered " the thoughts that breathed, and 
words that burned." It was not the polish of aca- 
demic splendour, nor the depth of elaborate argu- 
mentation, nor the excursions of a brilliant and 
roving fancy, that constituted the charm and attrac- 
tion of his discourses ; but the evident indications of 
u simplicity and godly sincerity," united with great 
vehemence, and earnestness, and unaffected devo- 
tion. Whatever he thought, he could instantly 
present to the thoughts of others; and thus he im- 
parted to his conceptions an extraordinary degree 
of vividness and impression. Every one saw that 
he was in earnest — that he felt his subject, and that 
he was supremely desirous that others shouldfoel it 
too. Many might be drawn to hear him, and no 
doubt were drawn, by the accidental and exterior 
attractions of voice, and manner, and appearance, 
which he possessed. But the true source of the 
unusual interest which pious hearers felt under his 
discourses, was the prominence of evangelical sen- 
timent they exhibited, in conjunction with the devout 
animation of the preacher, and the faithfulness of his 
appeals to the heart and conscience. It could not 
be expected that in the very short space allotted for 
his labours on earth, every topic in the wide range 
of Christian truth could have occupied his attention, 
much less have formed the subject of his discourses; 
but what he did advance, discovered the accuracy 
and extent of his conceptions. " Christ cruci- 
" FIED" was his favourite theme; and it was evi- 
dently his aim to deliver " the whole counsel of God," 
His labours were signally successful: — and when 
the annals of time shall be unfolded, and the deci- 
sions of eternity pronounced, I doubt not that many 
will be found to constitute " his joy and crown of 
" rejoicing." 



*XX. APPENDIX. 

Long- ought you, my friends, to remember him 
who for a little while " had the rule over you ;" and 
you should remember him, that you may " imitate 
" his faith, and consider the end," the scope and 
object " of his conversation." It was — " Jesus 
" Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, 
" AND for ever." The Saviour still lives— and 
lives for the good of his people. He has removed 
this " burning and shining light" from the hemis- 
phere of' the church. It rose upon us in brightness 
and in splendour, and as it advanced in its course, 
gave delightful presages of future and progressive 
glory. We hoped the path of this just one would 
have been " as the shining light which shineth more 
" and more unto the perfect day." But in a moment 
that hand which " fed its secret fires" has arrested 
its course, and obscured those glories that were vi- 
sible in this " low, diurnal sphere." And is it 
quenched in darkness? Is it set for ever in the 
shades of death I No, my friends — because the Sun 
of righteousness is the fountain of light, " they that 
" be wise shall shine as the firmament, and they that 
" turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever 
" and ever." 

What solemn instructive admonitiotis does this 
dispensation of providence address to the children 
of men ! It speaks to the thoughtless and uncon- 
cerned — " Be ye also ready" — " Prepare to meet 
your God." " One thing is needful." Could 
that voice you shall hear no more, again address 
you, with what solemnity and impression would its 
last admonitions be reiterated and confirmed ! With 
what attention and interest would you listen again 
to its faithful warnings and expostulations ! And 
hear ye not the voice of God in this afflictive visi- 
tation I Will you yet be hardened against the ap- 
peals of heavenly wisdom? — will you trifle on the 
verge of the grave? — will you be insensible and uu- 



APPENDIX. XXxl. 

moved in a scene like this, while standing amidst 
the memorials of death, and on the threshhold of 
eternity ? Oh ! may the removal of our friend, by 
the blessing of God, produce those impressions and 
convictions which his living instructions failed to 
secure ! Yon may be called as suddenly as he was 
to appear before the bar of the Most High, and to 
give up your account* Are you prepared for that 
interview? Is the God of Spencer, the God whose 
mercy is revealed in the Bible, who is reconciled 
only through Jesus Christ, " the resurrection and 
" the life," — your God? " Seek FIRST the king*. 
" dom of God, and the righteousness thereof," — and 
then you will be taught how to live, and how to die! 
This dispensation of providence is peculiarly af- 
fecting to the mourning relatives of the deceased, 
and to you, the bereaved and sorrowing flock of our 
departed friend. You glorified God in him. The 
religion of Christ forbids not your tears. You ought 
to feel ; but as soon as you have wiped away those 
tears, as soon as the oppressive feelings of grief will 
permit you to extend and enlarge your views, re- 
member that Jesus is ** the head over all things to 
<l the church ;" and that with him is " the residue 
4( of the Spirit." Even while you drop those tears 
over this opening grave, think of Him who can be- 
stow the mantle of the ascended prophet, and impart 
a " double portion of his spirit." " His hand is not 
" shortened that it cannot save." Amidst your suf- 
ferings look to Him who is the " chief shepherd 
" and bishop of your souls;" and never, never for- 
get that sacred cause for which he lived, who is now 
silent in the dust. Most powerful motives to per- 
severance and activity are connected with this be- 
reavement. Let the feelings of sanctified sorrow 
urge you to go forward; let the affections of Chris- 
tian friendship impel you to proceed in the course 
of holy zeal on which you have entered, " ever 



XXX11. APPENDIX. 

abounding in the work of the Lord." Let the con- 
tinuance and progress of your devotion to the cause 
of the Redeemer be the monument you consecrate 
to the memory of your pastor. It is not the cause 
of Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas : it is not the cause 
of any individual, however dignified by gifts or 
adorned by grace; but it is the cause of Him who 
died and rose again — who once lay a prisoner in the 
tomb, and is now at " the right hand of the ma- 
" jesly on high." By the solemnities of this scene, 
I beseech you to " work while it is called to-day ;" 
and thus testify your regard to the pastor you have 
lost, and to the Saviour whom he loved and served. 
Blessed be God, we " sorrow not as those 
who have no hope." What a scene of unmingled 
gloom and horror would a grave present to our view, 
were it not for " Jesus and the resurrection !" But 
the Gospel has brought life and immortality to light; 
it has shed its bright irradiations all along the valley 
of the shadow of death ; and it enables us to con- 
template the opening heavens of bliss beyond it. — 
" Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift." 
Animated by the glorious hopes which the Gospel 
inspires, we commit the body of our friend to the 
sepulchre of death. Farewell, departed spirit! 
Thy days of mourning are ended! Thou art where 
Jesus is, — where all his servants long to be ! Thou 
art gone to thy Father, and to our Father, to thy 
God and to our God ! Before the throne thou serv- 
esl him — in the temple above, and thy removal shall 
be another attraction to draw our hearts to heaven ! 
Thou art satisfied with the likeness of thy Lord, and 
the last song which thy voice uttered in the church 
below, thou understandest now, — for 

'' There thou shalt bathe thy weary soul 

In seas of heavenly rest, 
And not a wave of trouble roll 

Across thy peaceful breast!" 



APPENDIX. IXXlll. 

May He who was thy God on earth, be ours for 
cer and ever! — our guide in all this gloomy vale, 
our friend amidst its sorrows, our light in darkness, 
and our life in death ! And " when heart and 

FLESH SHALL FAIL, BE THOU, O GOD, THE 
STRENGTH OF OUR HEARTS, AND OUR PORTION 
FOR EVERT 



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